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MAEION'S  FAITH. 


BY   THE  AUTHOR   OF 

"THE  COLONEL'S  DAUGHTER." 


CAPT.  CHARLES  KING,  U.S.A., 

AUTHOB  OF  "KITTY'S  CONQUEST,"  ETC. 


PHILADELPHIA: 
J.  B.   LIPPINCOTT  COMPANY. 

1890. 


Copyright,  1886,  t>j  J.  B.  LippiNohi-  COMPANY. 


Copyright,  1887,  by  J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  COMPANY. 


TO 


EMMET    CKAWFOED, 

CAPTAIN  THIRD  EEGIMENT  OP  CAVALRY, 

OP  THE   NOBLEST   MEN,  ONE   OP   THE   KNIGHTLIEST   SOLDIERS,   AND 
ONE  OF  THE   MOST    INEXCUSABLE   SACRIFICES  IN 
THE   HISTORY  OP   OUR   ARMY, 

THIS  STORY 

OP  SCENES  WHEREIN   HE  WAS  LOVED  AND   HONORED, 

IS    DEDICATED. 


M13737 


PKEFACE. 


THE  kind  reception  accorded  "  The  Colonel's  Daugh 
ter"  was  a  surprise  and  delight  to  the  author,  never 
theless  it  was  a  long  time  before  he  could  be  induced 
to  write  this  sequel. 

When  Mr.  Sam  Slick,  at  the  first  essay,  shot  the 
cork  out  of  a  floating  bottle  some  thirty  yards  away, 
he  had  the  deep  sagacity  never  to  pull  trigger  again, 
well  knowing  he  could  not  improve  on  the  initial 
effort,  and  so  Prudence  whispered  that  with  the  Finis 
to  the  story  of  Jack  Truscott  and  sweet  Grace  Pelham 
there  had  best  come  a  full  stop. 

But  many  a  plea  has  been  received  to  "  Tell  us  more 
about  the  — th,"  and  at  last  the  motion  prevailed. 
Thackeray  has  said,  "  It  is  an  unfair  advantage  which 
the  novelist  takes  of  the  hero  and  heroine  to  say 
good-by  to  the  two  as  soon  as  ever  they  are  mack* 
husband  and  wife,  and  I  have  often  wished  that  we 
should  hear  what  occurs  to  the  sober  married  man  as 
well  as  to  the  ardent  bachelor ;  to  the  matron  as  to  the 
blushing  spinster."  And  so,  many  of  the  characters 


VI  PREFACE. 

of  the  old  story  reappear  upon  the  scene.  That  they 
will  be  welcomed  for  the  sake  of  auld  lang  syne  has 
been  promised,  and  that  they  and  their  associates  may 
find  new  interest  in  the  eyes  of  the  indulgent  reader  is 
the  prayer  of 

THE  AUTHOR. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  PAQm 

I. — Two  TROOPERS 5 

II. — GARRISON  TALK        .        .        .        .        .        .20 

III. — HEROINES .43 

IV. — IMPENDING  SHADOWS       .        ...»      59 

Y. — MARION  SANFORD 72 

VI. — AT  THE  FRONT 84 

VII.— WAR  RUMORS 100 

VIII.— AT  KUSSELL 112 

IX. — KAY  TO  THE  FRONT 125 

X. — A  JUNE  SUNDAY 147 

XI. — THE  WOLF  AND  THE  SHEEPFOLD  .        .        .    162 

XII. — A  SERENADE 177 

XIII. — SURROUNDED 189 

XIV.— KAY'S  KIDE  FOR  LIFE 207 

XV. — KESCUE  AT  DAWN 222 

XVI. — How  WE  HEARD  THE  NEWS  ....    232 

XVII.— A  COWARD'S  DEED 246 

XVIII. — DESERTION 257 

XIX.— IN  CLOSE  ARREST 272 

XX.— A  CORNERED  RAT 286 

XXI.— KAY'S  TROUBLES 296 

XXII. — A  SHOT  AT  MIDNIGHT 309 

XXIII.— IN  CLOSER  TOILS 322 

XXIV.— THE  GRASP  OF  THE  LAW        .        .        .        .334 
XXV.— WHOSE  GAUNTLET?         ....  345 

XXVI.— REVELATIONS 359 

XXVII.— VINDICATED      .        .  ....    373 

XXVIII.— THE  COLORS  ENTWINE  .        .        .        .396 

XXIX.— A  CAVALRY  WEDDING 419 

vii 


MARION'S  FAITH, 

A  SEQUEL  TO  THE  COLONEL'S  DAUGHTER, 


CHAPTER  I. 

TWO   TROOPERS. 


"  RAY,  what  would  you  do  if  some  one  were  to  leave 
you  a  fortune  ?" 

"  Humph  !  Pay  for  the  clothes  I  have  on,  I  suppose/' 
is  the  answer,  half  humorous,  half  wistful,  as  the  in 
terrogated  party,  the  younger  of  two  officers,  glances 
down  at  his  well-worn  regimentals.  "  That's  one  rea 
son  I'm  praying  we  may  be  sent  to  reinforce  Crook  up 
in  the  Sioux  country.  No  need  of  new  duds  when  you're 
scouting  for  old  '  Gray  Fox,'  you  know." 

"  I  thought  you  wanted  to  take  a  leave  this  summer 
and  visit  the  old  home  in  Kentucky,"  says  the  major, 
with  a  look  of  rather  kindly  interest  from  under  his 
shaggy  eyebrows. 

"  Want  must  be  my  master,  then.  I  couldn't  pay  my 
way  home  if  they'd  take  me  as  freight,"  replies  the 
lieutenant,  in  the  downright  and  devil-may-care  style 
which  is  one  of  his  several  pronounced  characteristics. 
"  Of  course,"  he  continues  presently,  "  I  would  like 
to  look  in  on  the  mother  again ;  she's  getting  on  in 

l*  5 


6  MARION'S  FAITH. 

years  now  and  isn't  over  and  above  strong,  but  she  has 
no  cares  or  worries  to  speak  of;  she  don't  know  what 
a  reprobate  I  am ;  sister  Nell  is  married  and  out  of  the 
way ;  the  old  home  is  sold  and  mother  lives  in  comfort 
on  the  proceeds ;  she's  happy  up  at  Lexington  with  her 
sister's  people.  What's  the  use  of  my  going  back  to 
Kentuck  and  being  a  worry  to  her  ?  Before  I'd  been 
there  a  week  I'd  be  spending  most  of  my  time  down  at 
the  track  or  the  stables ;  I  could  no  more  keep  away 
from  the/ horses  than  I -could  from  a  square  game,  and 
.she  hates  both,— they  swamped  my  father  before  I  knew 
an  ace  from  an  ant-hill.  No,  sir  !  The  more  I  think 
of  it  the  more  I  know  the  only  place  for  me  is  right 
here  with  the  old  regiment.  What's  more,  the  livelier 
work  we  have  in  the  field  and  the  less  we  get  of  gar 
rison  grind  the  better  it  is  for  me.  I  almost  wish  we 
were  back  in  Arizona  to-day." 

"  Why,  confound  it !  man,  it  isn't  a  year  since  we 
left  there,"  breaks  in  the  major,  impatiently,  "  and  we 
haven't  begun  to  get  a  taste  of  civilization  yet.  You 
let  the  women  in  the  regiment  hear  you  talk  of  wanting 
to  go  back  there,  or  what's  worse,  going  up  to  join 
Crook  in  Wyoming,  and  they'll  mob  you.  Who  was 
it  your  sister  married  ?"  he  suddenly  asks. 

"  A  man  named  Rallston, — a  swell  contractor  or  some 
thing  up  in  Iowa.  I  never  saw  him  ;  indeed,  it's  nearly 
nine  years  since  I  saw  her ;  but  she  promised  to  be  a 
beauty  then,  and  they  all  say  she  grew  up  a  beauty  ;  but 
Nell  was  headstrong  and  always  in  mischief,  and  I'm 
glad  she's  settled  down.  She  used  to  write  to  me  when 
she  was  first  married,  four  years  ago,  and  send  me  oc 
casional  '  tips'  for  Christmas  and  birthdays,  and  she  was 


TWO   TROOPERS.  7 

going  to  give  me  a  Lexington  colt  when  I  came  East, 
but  she's  quit  all  that,  because  I  was  an  ungrateful  cub 
and  never  answered,  I  suppose.  She  knows  there's 
nothing  I  hate  worse  than  writing,  and  oughtn't  to  be 
hard  on  me.  It's  all  I  can  do  to  send  a  monthly  report 
to  the  mother." 

"  Did  you  say  you  never  saw  her  husband  ?"  asks  the 
major  after  a  pause,  in  which  he  had  been  apparently 
studying  the  quick-tripping  hoofs  of  Ray's  nimble 
sorrel. 

"  No ;  never  set  eyes  on  him.  It  was  a  sudden  smite, 
— one  of  those  flash-in-the-pan,  love-at-first-sight  affairs. 
He  was  down  in  Kentucky  buying  horses,  saw  her  at  a 
party,  and  made  no  end  of  fuss  over  her ;  had  lots  of 
money  and  style,  you  know,  and  the  first  I  heard  of  it 
they  were  married  and  off.  It  was  our  first  year  in 
Arizona,  and  mails  were  a  month  old  when  they  got 
to  us." 

"  How  long  is  it  since  you  heard  from  her  ?"  says 
the  major,  after  another  pause. 

Mr.  Ray  looks  up  in  some  surprise.  He  hardly 
knows  what  to  make  of  this  display  of  curiosity  on  the 
part  of  his  ordinarily  indifferent  companion,  but  he 
answers  quietly  enough, — 

"  Over  a  year,  I  reckon.  She  was  in  Omaha  then 
and  Rallston  was  away  a  good  deal, — had  big  cattle 
interests  somewhere ;  I  know  that  mother  used  to  ask 
if  Nell  told  me  much  about  him,  and  she  seemed  anx 
ious.  Nell  herself  said  that  mother  was  much  opposed 
to  the  match, — didn't  seem  to  take  to  Rallston  at  all, — 
but  she  was  bound  to  have  him,  and  she  did,  and  she's 
just  that  high-strung  sort  of  girl  that  if  disappointed 


g  MARION'S  FAITH. 

or  unhappy  would  never  let  on  to  the  mother  as  long 
as  she  lived." 

They  are  riding  slowly  in  from  troop-drill,  the  bat 
talion  commander  and  a  pet  of  his,  Mr.  Ray,  of  the 
— th  Cavalry.  It  is  one  of  those  exquisite  May  morn  - 
ings  when  the  rolling  prairies  of  Western  Kansas  seem 
swimming  in  a  soft,  hazy  light,  and  the  mirage  on  the 
horizon  looks  like  a  glassy  sea.  The  springy  turf  is 
tinted  with  the  hues  of  myriads  of  wild  flowers,  purple, 
pale  blue,  and  creamy  white ;  the  mountain  breeze  that 
is  already  whirling  the  dust-clouds  on  the  Denver  plains 
has  not  yet  begun  to  ruffle  the  cotton  woods  or  the 
placid  surface  of  the  slow-moving  stream,  and  in  many 
a  sheltered  pool  the  waters  of  the  "  Smoky  Hill"  gleam 
like  silvered  mirror,  without  break  or  flaw.  Far  out  on 
the  gentle  slopes  small  herds  of  troop-horses  or  quar 
termaster's  "  stock,"  each  with  its  attendant  guard,  give 
life  to  the  somewhat  sombre  tone  of  the  landscape, 
while  nearer  at  hand  two  or  three  well-filled  cavalry 
"  troops"  with  fluttering  guidons  are  marching  silently 
in  towards  the  little  frontier  garrison  that  lies  in  a 
shallow  dip  in  the  wide,  treeless  prairie. 

Bits  of  color  are  rare  enough,  save  the  faint  hues  of 
the  flowerets, — almost  as  indistinguishable  in  the  general 
effect  as  their  fairy  fragrance  on  the  air.  Aloft,  the  sky 
is  all  one  blaze  of  sunshine,  that  seems  to  bleach  it  into 
palest,  most  translucent  blue.  Far  to  the  west  some 
fleecy  clouds  are  rolling  up  from  the  horizon,  wafted 
from  the  peaks  of  the  hidden  Rockies.  Down  in  the 
"  swale,"  the  wooden  barracks,  stables,  quarters,  and 
storehouses  are  all  one  tint  of  economical  brown,  bright 
ened  only  by  the  hues  of  the  flag  that  hangs  high 


TWO    TROOPERS.  9 

over  the  scene.  Beyond  the  shallow  valley  and  across 
the  stream,  looking  only  long  rifle-shot  away,  but  a 
good  two  miles  when  one  comes  to  walk  it,  a  brick 
school-house  with  glistening  cupola  stands  sentinel  in 
the  centre  of  the  scattering  frontier  town ;  there,  too, 
lies  the  railway  station,  from  which  an  ugly  brown 
freight-train  is  just  pulling  out  Denverwards,  puffing 
dense  clouds  of  inky  smoke  to  the  sky.  Space,  light, 
and  air  there  are  in  lavish  profusion.  Shade  there  is 
little  or  none,  except  close  along  the  winding  stream ; 
but  shade  is  a  thing  neither  sought  nor  cared  for,  as  the 
sun-tanned  faces  of  the  troopers  show.  Every  now 
and  then  a  trumpet-call  floats  softly  over  the  prairie,  or 
the  ringing,  prolonged  word  of  command  marks  some 
lazily-executed  manoeuvre  on  the  homeward  way.  Drill 
is  over ;  the  sharp  eyes  and  sharper  tongue  of  the  major 
no  longer  criticise  any  faulty  or  "  slouchy"  wheel ;  the 
drill  proper  has  been  stiff  and  spirited,  and  now  the 
necessary  changes  of  direction  are  carried  out  in  a 
purely  perfunctory  manner,  while  the  battalion  com 
mander  and  his  subaltern,  troops  and  all,  amble  back 
and  give  their  steeds  a  breathing  spell. 

Typical  cavalrymen  are  those  two,  who,  chatting 
quietly  together,  are  riding  somewhat  in  advance  of  the 
returning  companies.  The  major  is  a  man  a  trifle  over 
forty,  short,  stout,  with  massive  shoulders,  chest,  and 
thighs,  a  neck  like  a  bull,  a  well-shaped  head  covered 
with  straight,  close-cropped,  brown  hair,  innocent  of 
kink  or  curl ;  a  florid  face,  bronzed  and  tanned  by  years 
of  life  in  sun  and  wind  and  storm ;  clean-shaven  but 
for  the  drooping  brown  moustache  that  conceals  the 
rugged  lines  of  his  mouth,  and  twinkling  blue-gray 


10  MARION'S  FAITH. 

eyes  that  peer  out  with  searching  gaze  from  under  their 
shaggy  brows.  Firmness,  strength,  self-reliance,  even 
sternness,  can  be  read  in  every  line ;  but  around  the 
gathering  crowsfeet  at  the  corners  of  his  eyes,  and 
lurking  under  the  shadow  of  the  grim  moustache,  are 
little  curves  or  dimples  or  something,  that  betray  to  the 
initiated  the  presence  of  a  humorous  vein  that  softens 
the  asperity  of  the  soldier.  Some  who  best  know  hi  in 
can  detect  there  a  symptom  of  tenderness  and  a. possibil 
ity  of  sentiment,  whose  existence  the  major  would  in 
dignantly  deny.  The  erect  carriage  of  the  head,  the 
square  set  of  the  shoulders,  the  firm  yet  easy  seat  in 
the  saddle,  speak  of  the  experienced  soldier,  while  in 
the  first  word  that  falls  from  his  lips  one  hears  the  tone 
of  the  man  far  more  at  home  in  camp  than  court. 
There  is  something  utterly  blunt  and  abrupt  in  his 
manner,  a  scathing  contrast  to  the  affected  drawl 
brought  into  the  regiment  by  recent  importations  from 
the  East,  and  assiduously  copied  by  a  professed  Anglo- 
maniac  among  the  captains.  Rude  indeed  may  he 
sometimes  be  in  his  speech,  "  and  little  versed  in  the 
set  phrase  of  peace/'  but  through  it  all  is  the  ring  of 
sturdy  honesty  and  independence.  He  uses  the  same 
tone  to  general  and  to  private  soldier  alike;  extending 
the  same  degree  of  courtesy  to  each.  No  one  ever 
heard  of  "  old  Stannard's"  fawning  upon  a  superior  or 
bullying  an  inferior ;  to  all  soldiers  he  is  one  and  the 
same, — short,  blunt,  quick,  and  to  the  point.  Literally 
he  obeys  the  orders  of  his  chiefs,  and  literally  and 
promptly  he  expects  his  own  to  be  obeyed.  He  has  his 
faults,  like  the  best  of  men  :  he  will  growl  at  times ;  he 
is  prone  to  pick  flaws,  and  to  say  sharp  and  cutting 


TWO    TROOPERS.  H 

things,  for  which  he  is  often  ashamed  and  sorry ;  he 
can  see  little  good  in  the  works  or  words  of  the  men 
he  dislikes  ;  he  absolutely  cannot  praise,  and  he  is  over- 
quick  to  blame ;  but  after  all  he  is  true  as  steel,  as  un 
swerving  as  the  needle,  and  no  man,  no  woman  could 
need  a  stancher  friend  than  the  new  major  of  the  — tli, 
"oldStannard." 

As  for  Ray,  no  officer  in  the  regiment  is  better  known 
or  more  talked  about.  Ten  years  of  his  life  he  has 
spent  under  the  standard  of  the  — th,  barring  a  very 
short  but  eventful  detail  at  "  the  Point.77  Nebraska, 
Kansas,  and  Arizona  he  knows  as  well  as  the  savannas 
of  his  native  blue-grass  country.  He  has  been  in  more 
skirmishes  with  the  regiment  and  more  scrapes  of  his 
own  than  any  fellow  of  his  age  in  service,  but  he  has 
the  faculty  of  "  lighting  on  his  feet  every  time,"  as  he 
himself  would  express  it,  and  to-day  he  rides  along  as 
buoyantly  and  recklessly  as  he  did  ten  years  ago,  and 
the  saddle  is  Ray's  home.  Ephemeral  pleasure  he  finds 
in  the  hop- room,  for  he  dances  well ;  perennial  attrac 
tion,  his  detractors  say,  he  finds  at  the  card-table,  but 
Ray  is  never  quite  himself  until  he  throws  his  leg  over 
the  horse  he  loves.  He  is  facile  princeps  the  light  rider 
of  the  regiment,  and  to  this  claim  there  are  none  to  say 
him  nay.  A  tip-top  soldier  too  is  Ray.  Keen  on  the 
scout,  tireless  on  the  trail,  daring  to  a  fault  in  action, 
and  either  preternatu rally  cool  or  enthusiastically  ex 
cited  when  under  fire.  He  is  a  man  the  rank  and  file 
swear  by  and  love.  "  You  never  hear  Loot'nant  Ray 
saying  '  Go  in  there,  fellers.'  'Tis  always,  '  Come  on, 
boys.'  That's  why  I  like  him,"  is  the  way  Sergeant 
Moriarty  puts  it.  Among  his  comrades,  his  brother 


12  MARION'S  FAITH. 

officers  that  is  to  say,  opinions  are  divided.  Ray  has 
trusty  friends  and  he  has  his  bitter  enemies,  though  the 
latter,  when  charged  with  the  fact,  are  prone  to  say  that 
no  one  is  so  much  Ray's  enemy  as  Ray  himself, — an 
assertion  which  cannot  be  altogether  denied.  But  as 
his  own  worst  enemy  Ray  is  thoroughly  open  and  above- 
board  ;  he  has  not  a  hidden  fault ;  his  sins  are  many 
and  they  are  public  property  for  all  he  cares ;  whereas 
the  men  who  dislike  Ray  in  the  regiment  are  of  the 
opposite  stamp.  Among  themselves  they  pick  him  to 
pieces  with  comparative  safety,  but  outside  their  limited 
circle,  the  damnation  of  faint  praise,  the  covert  insinua 
tions,  or  that  intangible  species  of  backbiting  which 
can, 

"  Without  sneering,  others  teach  to  sneer," 

has  to  be  their  resort,  and  for  good  reason.  Ray  tolerates 
no  slander,  and  let  him  once  get  wind  of  the  fact  that 
some  man  has  maligned  him,  there  is  a  row  in  the  camp. 
Minding  his  own  business,  however  unsuccessfully,  he 
meddles  with  the  affairs  of  no  one  else,  and  thinking 
twice  before  he  alludes  once  to  the  shortcomings  of  a 
comrade,  he  claims  that  consideration  for  himself,  but 
doesn't  get  it.  There  be  men  who  outrival  the  weaker 
sex  in  the  sinister  effect  they  can  throw  into  the  faintest 
allusion  to  another's  conduct,  and  in  the  dexterity  with 
which  they  evade  the  consequences,  and  of  such  speci 
mens  the  — th  has  its  share.  There  was  Crane,  whom 
Ray  had  fearfully  snubbed  and  afterwards  "  cut"  in 
Arizona;  there  was  \Vilkins,  whom  Ray  had  treated 
with  scant  courtesy  for  over  a  year,  because  of  some 
gossip  that  veteran  had  been  instrumental  in  putting 


TWO    TROOPERS.  13 

into  circulation ;  there  was  Captain  Canker,  who  used 
to  like  and  admire  Ray  in  the  rough  old  days  in  the 
cafions  and  deserts,  but  who  had  forfeited  his  esteem 
while  they  were  stationed  at  Camp  Sandy,  and  when 
they  met  again  in  Kansas,  Ray  touched  his  cap  to  his 
superior  officer  but  withheld  his  hand.  Canker  felt 
very  bitterly  towards  Ray,  claiming  that  there  was  no 
officer  in  the  regiment  whom  he  had  treated  with  such 
marked  courtesy,  and  to  this,  when  he  heard  it,  Ray 
made  response  in  his  characteristic  way.  He  would 
have  no  middleman.  He  went  straight  to  Canker  and 
said  his  say  in  few  terse  words  :  "  You  consider  me  un 
justified  in  refusing  to  treat  you  as  a  friend,  Captain 
Canker ;  now  let  us  have  no  misunderstanding  what 
ever.  Your  conduct  towards  my  best  friend,  Captain 
Truscott,  and  towards — towards  another  good  friend  of 
mine  at  Sandy,  was  an  outrage  in  my  opinion,  and  I 
have  yet  to  learn  that  you  have  expressed  regret  or 
made  amends.  That's  my  position,  sir  ;  and  if  you  care 
for  my  friendship,  you  know  how  to  regain  it."  Canker 
was  too  much  astonished  by  such  directness  to  make  any 
reply.  Other  officers  who  happened  to  be  standing  near 
maintained  an  embarrassed  silence,  and  Ray  faced  about 
and  walked  off.  "For  all  the  world,"  said  Wilkins, 
"  as  though  he  had  that  d — d  chip  on  his  shoulder  again 
and  was  begging  somebody  to  knock  it  off."  Canker 
was  hit  in  a  sore  place.  Long  before  this  occurrence  he 
realized  that  several  officers  of  the  regiment  had  with 
drawn  every  semblance  of  esteem  in  their  intercourse 
with  him.  He  well  knew  why,  but  the  officer  whose 
cause  Ray  so  vehemently  championed  was  away  on  de 
tached  service,  and  Canker  really  did' not  know  just 

2 


14  MARION'S  FAITH. 

what  to  do,  and  was  too  proud  and  sensitive  to  seek 
advice.  He  was  a  gallant  soldier  in  the  field,  but  a  man 
of  singularly  unfortunate  disposition, — crabbed,  cranky, 
and  suspicious ;  and  thus  it  resulted  that  he,  too,  joined 
the  little  band  of  Ray  haters,  despite  the  fact  that  he 
felt  ashamed  of  himself  for  so  doing. 

Then  there  was  Gleason, — "  That  man  Gleason,"  as 
he  was  generally  alluded  to,  and  to  those  familiar  with 
army  life  or  army  ways  the  mere  style  is  indicative  of 
this  character.  For  good  and  sufficient  reason  Mr.  Ray 
had  slapped  Mr.  Gleason's  face  some  years  back,  when 
the  — th  was  serving  in  Arizona,  and  there  was  no  pos 
sible  reason  for  his  failure  to  seek  the  immediate  repa 
ration  due  him  as  an  officer,  n  >  possible  reason  except 
the  absolute  certainty  of  Ray's  promptly  according  him 
the  demanded  luxury.  The  — th  was  commanded  by 
a  colonel  of  the  old  school  in  those  days,  one  who  had 
observed  "the  code"  when  a  junior  officer,  and  would 
have  been  glad  to  see  it  carried  out  to  this  day ;  but 
Gleason  was  not  made  of  that  stuff,  and  to  the  scandal 
of  the  regiment  and  the  incredulous  mirth  of  Mr.  Ray, 
Gleason  pocketed  the  blow  as  complacently  a.s  he  did 
the  money  he  had  won  from  the  Kentuckian  by  a  trick 
which  was  transparent  to  every  looker-on,  and  would 
have  been  harmless  with  Ray — had  he  been  himself. 
Those  were  the  rough  days  of  the  regiment's  campaign 
against  the  Apaches ;  officers  and  men  were  scattered  in 
small  commands  through  the  mountains  ;  in  the  general 
and  absorbing  interest  of  the  chase  and  scout  after  a 
common  foe  there  was  no  time  to  take  up  and  settle 
the  aifair  as  something  affecting  the  credit  of  the  entire 
corps ;  many  officers  never  heard  of  it  at  all  until  long 


'1 '  W U     '1  'K UUfUKS.  1 5 

after  wards/ and  then  it  was  too  late ;  but  to  this  day 
Gleason  stood  an  unsparing,  bitter,  but  secret  and 
treacherous  enemy  of  the  younger  officer.  He  hated 
Eay  with  the  venom  of  a  snake. 

So  far  as  the  regiment  was  concerned,  the  enmity  of 
a  man  of  Gleason's  calibre  could  hardly  be  of  conse 
quence.  Like  Canker,  he  had  come  into  the  — th  from 
the  "  supernumerary  list"  at  the  time  of  the  general 
reorganization  in  '71.  Scores  of  infantry  officers  left 
out  of  their  regiments  by  consolidation  were  saddled 
upon  the  cavalry  and  artillery,  and  in  many  instances 
proved  utterly  out  of  their  element  in  the  mounted 
service.  All  the  cavalry  regiments  growled  more  or 
less  at  the  enforced  addition  to  their  list  of  "  total  com 
missioned,"  and  the  — th  had  not  been  especially  fortu 
nate.  Many  a  fine  soldier  and  excellent  comrade  had 
come  into  the  cavalry  in  this  way,  and  of  them  the 
— th  had  found  a  few ;  but  a  dozen  or  more,  valuable 
neither  as  soldiers  nor  comrades,  had  drifted  into  the 
mounted  service,  and  of  these  the  regiment  had,  to  say 
the  least,  its  full  share.  "  All  I've  got  to  remark  on 
the  subject/7  said  old  "  Black  Bill/'  the  senior  major 
at  that  eventful  period, — "all  I've  got  to  remark  is 
simply  this  :  those  infantry  fellows  showed  profound 
discrimination  in  getting  rid  of  their  chaff,  but  they  had 
no  mercy  on  us.  When  a  man  ain't  good  enough  for  a 
doughboy  officer  he  ain't  fit  for  anything." 

Now,  it  by  no  means  resulted  from  inefficiency  on 
their  part  that  so  many  of  the  transferred  officers  had 
left  their  own  regiments.  Many  had  requested  the 
move;  many  more  were  rendered  supernumerary  as 
being  the  juniors  of  their  grades;  but  there  were 


16  MARION'S  FAITH. 

others  still  who  ranked  well  up  in  their  old  regiments, 
and  yet  were  mysteriously  "  left  out  in  the  cold."  And 
of  such  was  "that  man  Gleason."  Six  years  had  he. 
served  with  the  new  regiment  in  the  field,  and  not  a 
friend  could  he  muster  among  the  officers, — not  one  who 
either  liked  or  respected  him, — not  one  who  more  than 
tolerated  him  except  among  the  two  or  three  who  daily 
and  nightly  haunted  the  card-room  at  the  trader's  store ; 
but  to  hear  Gleason  talk  one  would  fancy  him  to  be  on 
terms  of  intimacy  with  every  "  solid"  man  of  the  regi 
ment,  and  the  casual  visitor  at  the  garrison  would  be 
more  than  apt  to  leave  it  with  the  impression  that 
Gleason  was  the  figure-head  of  the  commissioned  ele 
ment.  He  had  fair  manners ;  his  appearance  was  pre 
possessing  ;  he  was  bland  and  insinuating  among  daily 
associates,  confidential  and  hospitable  with  strangers. 
A  visitor  could  go  nowhere  without  meeting  Gleason, 
for  his  social  status  was  just  so  balanced  between  ad 
verse  influences  that  one  could  neither  forbid  nor  wel 
come  him  to  his  home.  No  matter  who  might  be  the 
entertaining  officer,  the  first  to  call  and  pay  his  respects 
to  the  guest  would  be  that  objectionable  Gleason,  and 
very  sprightly  and  interesting  could  he  be.  Ten  to  one 
the  chances  were  that  when  he  took  his  departure  he 
had  left  a  pleasant  impression  on  the  mind  of  the  new 
arrival,  who  would  find  himself  at  a  loss  to  account  for 
the  evident  perturbation  with  which  his  host  proper  re 
garded  his  acceptance  of  Gleason's  hospitable  invita 
tions.  Gleason's  horse,  Gleason's  dogs  or  guns  or  rods 
were  promptly  at  the  door  for  him  to  try,  and  when 
others  sought  to  do  him  honor,  and  other  invitations 
came  to  hunt  or  ride  or  dine,  Gleason  had  the  inside 


TWO    TROOPERS.  17 

track,  and  somehow  or  other  it  seemed  to  make  the 
better  men  of  the  — th  retire  into  their  shells  when 
they  heard  of  it.  This  had  been  the  way  with  visiting 
officers  from  other  posts  and  regiments  when  in  Arizona, 
and  the  same  thing  was  being  repeated  here  in  Kansas. 
The  — th  did  not  like  it,  but  could  not  exactly  see  how 
to  help  it.  The  only  vulnerable  and  tangible  points 
upon  which  he  could  be  u  sent  to  Coventry"  were  shady 
transactions  at  cards  or  horse-racing  that  had  occurred 
in  Arizona,  and  his  failure  to  resent  Ray's  blow ;  but 
two  and  three  years  had  elapsed  since  these  occurrences ; 
the  scattered  condition  of  the  regiment  had  prevented 
regimental  notice  of  them  at  the  time,  and  it  was  gen 
erally  held  that  now  it  was  too  late  for  any  such  action. 
"With  any  other  man  coldness,  distance  of  manner,  or 
at  the  least  the  pronounced  snubs  that  greeted  Glea- 
son,  would  have  long  since  had  effect,  but  he  was  proof 
against  such  methods,  and  no  sooner  detected  them  than 
he  found  excuses  to  force  himself  upon  the  attention  or 
conversation  of  the  officer,  and  in  so  insidious  a  way  as 
to  disarm  resistance.  He  would  fairly  beam  with  cor 
diality  and  respect  upon  the  commanding  officer  who 
was  short  and  gruff  with  him ;  he  would  invade  old 
Stannard's  quarters  to  ask  his  advice  about  the  pur 
chase  of  a  horse  or  the  proper  method  of  dealing  with 
some  one  of  his  men, — and  the  major  had  a  soft  side  in 
looking  after  the  rights  of  the  rank  and  file ;  he  would 
drop  in  to  ask  Mrs.  Stannard  the  name  of  a  new  flower 
he  had  picked  up  out  near  the  targets.  He  cared  no 
more  for  flowers  than  she  did  for  him,  but  it  gave 
him  temporary  admission,  generally  when  other  ladies 
had  called  for  a  morning  chat,  and  though  she  cordially 
b  2* 


18  MARION'S  FAITH. 

disliked  him,  Mrs.  Stannard  was  too  thorough  a  lady 
to  show  the  least  disco artesy  to  an  officer  of  her  hus 
band's  regiment.  Gleason  well  knew  it,  and  laid  his 
plans  accordingly.  For  a  long  time,  indeed,  there  were 
ladies  who  could  not  understand  why  Mr.  Gleason 
should  be  so  contemptuously  spoken  of  by  the  officers. 
He  was  so  thoughtful,  so  delicate,  and  then  he  was 
so  lonely.  Gleason  was  a  widower,  whose  eyes  would 
often  overflow  when  he  spoke  of  the  little  woman 
whom  he  had  buried  years  ago  down  in  Connecticut ; 
but  when  Mrs.  Turner  once  questioned  Captain  Baxter, 
who  knew  them  when  they  were  in  the  old  infantry 
regiment  in  Louisiana,  and  referred  to  its  being  so  sad 
and  touching  to  hear  Mr.  Gleason  talk  of  his  dead 
wife  and  their  happy  days  among  the  orange-groves 
near  Jackson  Barracks,  the  captain  astonished  her  by  an 
outburst  of  derisive  laughter.  "  Happy,  madam  ?" 
said  he ;  "  by  gad !  if  ever  a  woman  died  of  neglect, 
abuse,  and  ill-treatment  Mrs.  Gleason  did,  and  next 
time  he  attempts  to  gull  you  with  sentiment,  just  you 
refer  him  to  me."  But  then,  as  Mrs.  Turner  said,  poor 
Captain  Baxter's  finer  sensibilities  seemed  to  have  been 
blunted  by  a  lifetime  in  the  quartermaster's  department, 
and  for  quite  a  while  Mr.  Gleason  was  one  of  her  fa 
vorites, — quite  a  devotee  in  fact,  until  the  disastrous  day 
when  she  discovered  that  so  far  from  having  been  ill 
and  unable  to  ride  with  her,  as  he  claimed,  he  had  been 
spending  the  afternoon  in  the  fascinations  of  poker. 
One  by  one  the  ladies  of  the  — th  had  learned  to 
trust  Mr.  Gleason  as  little  as  did  their  lords,  but  there 
was  no  snubbing  him.  "  Snubs/'  said  the  senior  major, 
"  are  lost  on  such  a  pachydermatous  ass  as  Gleason," 


TWO    TROOPERS.  19 

and  however  lough  might  be  his  moral  hide,  and  how 
ever  deserved  might  have  been  the  applied  adjective, 
the  major  was  in  error  in  calling  Gleason  an  ass.  In 
triguing,  full  of  low  malice  and  scheming,  a  "  slan 
derer  and  substractor"  he  certainly  was,  but  no  fool. 
More's  the  pity,  Mr.  Gleason  was  far  too  smart  for 
the  direct  methods  and  simple  minds  of  his  associates 
in  the  — th.  He  never  in  all  his  life  failed  to  take  full 
note  of  every  slight  or  coldness,  and  though  it  was 
his  r6le  to  hide  the  sting,  and  "  smile  and  smile  and  be 
a  villain  still,"  never  was  it  his  purpose  to  permit 
the  faintest  snub  to  go  unpunished.  Sooner  or  later, 
unrelentingly  but  secretly  he  would  return  that  stab 
with  interest  ten  times  compounded.  And  sooner  or 
later  to  the  bitter  end  he  meant  to  feed  fat  his  ancient 
grudge  on  Ray. 

Up  to  this  time  he  had  scant  opportunity.  For  two 
or  three  years  preceding  their  removal  to  the  East 
Gleason  had  been  stationed  in  Southern  Arizona,  while 
Ray,  after  months  of  lively  service  in  the  mountains, 
had  been  sent  to  regimental  headquarters,  and  marched 
with  them  when  they  came  into  Kansas.  Now  once 
more  six  companies  were  gathered  at  the  post  of  the 
standard, — two  were  tenting  on  the  prairie  just  outside 
the  garrison,  the  other  four  were  regularly  in  barracks, 
and  the  concentration  there  boded  a  move  or  "  business" 
of  some  kind.  "  Old  Catnip,"  the  colonel,  was  East, 
but  the  lieutenant-colonel  was  commanding,  and  the 
junior  major  was  there.  Drills  were  incessant,  but 
scouts  were  few,  and  after  the  years  of  "  go-as-you- 
please"  work  in  Arizona  the  — th  was  getting  rapidly 
back  into  soldierly  shape.  The  little  frontier  fort  was 


20  MARION'S  FAITH. 

blithe  and  gay  with  its  merry  populace.  All  the 
officers'  families  had  joined ;  several  young  ladies  were 
spending  the  spring  in  garrison  and  taking  their  first 
taste  of  military  life ;  hops  and  dances  came  off  almost 
every  night,  a  "german"  every  week;  rides,  drives, 
hunts,  and  picnic-parties  were  of  daily  occurrence ;  the 
young  officers  were  in  clover,  the  young  ladies  in  ecstasy, 
the  young  matrons — perhaps  not  quite  so  well  pleased 
as  when  they  had  the  field  to  themselves,  in  Arizona, 
where  young  ladies  had  been  few  and  far  between,  and 
all  promised  delightfully  for  the  coming  summer, — all 
but  the  war-cloud  rising  in  the  far  Northwest. 


CHAPTER  II. 

GARRISON   TALK. 

IT  was  a  picturesque  group  that  assembled  every 
pleasant  morning  on  the  veranda  of  the  colonel's 
quarters.  There  had  been  a  time  in  the  not  very 
distant  past  of  the  regiment  when  the  ladies  gathered 
almost  anywhere  else  in  preference,  but  that  was  when 
Colonel  Pelham  had  retained  the  command,  and  when 
his  wife  sought  to  rule  the  garrison  after  methods  of 
her  own  devising.  However  successful  may  be  such 
feminine  usurpation  for  a  time,  it  is  at  best  but  a 
temporary  power,  for  women  are  of  all  things  revo 
lutionary.  The  instances  where  some  ambitious  matron 
has  sought  to  assume  the  control  of  the  little  military 


GARRISON   TALK.  21 

bailiwick  known  as  "  the  garrison"  are  numerous  in 
deed,  but  the  fingers  of  one  hand  are  too  many  to  keep 
tally  of  the  cases  of  prolonged  and  peaceful  reign. 
Mrs.  Pelham's  queendom  had  been  limited  to  a  very 
brief  fortnight, — so  'twas  said  in  the  regiment, — despite 
the  fact  that  the  more  prominent  members  of  the  social 
circle  of  the  — th  had  been  quite  ready  to  do  her  every 
homage  on  her  first  arrival, — provided  the  prime  min 
istry  were  not  given  to  some  rival  sister.  But  Mrs. 
Pelham's  administration  had  been  fraught  with  errors 
and  disasters  enough  to  wreck  a  constitutional  monarchy, 
and,  as  a  result,  affairs  were  in  a  highly  socialistic,  if 
not  nihilistic  condition  for  some  months  after  the  re 
turn  of  the  regiment  from  its  exile  in  Arizona.  Only 
a  few  of  the  officers  had  taken  their  families  thither 
with  them,  for  the  journey  in  those  days  was  full  of 
vast  discomfort  and  expense,  and  life  there  was  an 
isolation;  but  those  ladies  who  had  shared  the  heat 
and  burden  of  the  Arizona  days  with  their  lords  were 
not  unnaturally  given  to  regarding  themselves  as  en 
titled  to  more  consideration  as  regimental  authorities 
than  those  of  their  sisterhood  who  had  remained  in 
comfort  in  the  East.  Then,  too,  there  was  a  little  band 
of  heroines  who  had  made  the  march  "  cross  country" 
with  the  — th,  and  held  themselves  (and  were  held  by 
the  men)  as  having  a  higher  place  on  the  regimental 
unwritten  records  than  those  who  were  sent  home  by 
way  of  the  Pacific,  San  Francisco,  and  the  one  railway 
that  then  belted  the  continent.  Of  these  heroines 
Mrs.  Pelham  was  not,  and  when  she  rejoined  at  Fort 
Hays,  got  her  house  in  order  and  proceeded,  though 
with  inward  misgiving,  to  summon  her  subjects  about 


22  MARION'S  FAITH. 

her,  she  found  that  even  the  faint  rally  on  which  she 
had  counted  was  denied  her.  The  ladies  who  knew 
her  at  Camp  Sandy  had  thrown  off  the  yoke,  and  those 
who  were  joining  for  the  first  time  had  been  unmis 
takably  cautioned  by  the  determined  Amazons  of  the 
homeward  march.  Courtesy,  civility,  and  a  certain  de 
gree  of  cordiality  when  in  their  social  gatherings,  the 
ladies  were  willing  to  extend  to  the  colonel's  wife,  but 
the  declaration  of  independence  had,  been  signed  and 
sealed, — they  would  have  no  more  of  her  dominion. 

To  a  woman  of  her  character  garrison  life  was  no 
longer  tolerable  to  Mrs.  Pelham  ;  the  colonel,  too,  was 
getting  tired  of  it,  was  aging  rapidly  and  no  longer 
able  to  take  his  morning  gallops.  Then,  too,  he  was 
utterly  lonely ;  his  one  daughter,  the  light  of  his  old 
eyes,  had  married  the  man  of  her  choice  during  the 
previous  year;  his  sons  were  scattered  in  their  own 
avocations,  and  the  complaints  and  peevishness  of  his 
wife  were  poor  companions  for  his  fireside.  The  officers 
welcomed  him  to  their  club-room,  and  gladly  strove  to 
interest  him  in  billiards  or  whist,  to  the  exclusion  of 
the  Gleason  clique  and  concomitant  poker,  which  was 
never  played  in  the  colonel's  presence ;  but  even  this 
solace  was  denied  him  by  his  wife.  She  was  just  as 
lonely  at  home,  poor  lady,  and  she  had  to  have  some 
one  to  listen  to  her  long  accumulation  of  feminine 
trials  and  grievances,  otherwise  the  overcharged  bosom 
would  burst.  We  claim  it  an  attribute  of  manhood 
that  "to  suffer  and  be  strong"  is  an  every-day  af 
fair  j  but  the  best  of  men  feel  infinite  relief  in  having 
some  trusted  friend  who  will  listen  in  patience  to  the 
oft-told  story  of  their  struggle.  To  suffer,  be  strong, 


GARRISON  TALK.  23 

and  be  silent  is  a  task  for  the  stoutest  of  our  sex,  but 
woman  triumphs  over  nature  itself  in  accomplishing 
the  triple  feat,  and  undergoes  a  torture  that  outrivals 
martyrdom.  Suffer  Mrs.  Pelham  could  and  did,  if  her 
voluble  lamentations  could  be  credited ;  strong  she 
deemed  herself  beyond  all  question,  in  not  having  suc 
cumbed  to  the  privations  and  asperities  of  Western  life, 
but  silent  ?  ah,  no  !  Poor  old  Pelham's  life  had  become 
a  perennial  curtain-lecture,  so  Lieutenant  Blake  ex 
pressed  it,  and  when  January  came,  and  with  it  an  op 
portunity  to  accept  a  pleasant  detail  in  the  East,  the 
colonel  lost  no  time  in  taking  his  departure.  He  left 
the  — th  with  a  sorrowful  heart,  for  officers  and  men 
were  strongly  attached  to  the  old  soldier  who  had  for 
years  past  shared  every  exile  with  them,  but  they  could 
not  bear  his  domineering  wife,  and  many  a  fellow  who 
hadn't  told  an  appreciable  lie  for  six  months  gulped 
unconscionably  when  it  came  to  saying  good-by  to 
Mrs.  Pelham.  How  could  an  honest  man  say  he  re 
gretted  her  going  ?  Stout  old  Bucketts,  the  quarter 
master,  looked  her  straight  in  the  eye  and  wished  her  a 
pleasant  journey  and  a  long  and  happy  visit  East, 
whereat  several  ladies  gasped  audibly,  yet  told  it  over 
and  over  afterwards  with  infinite  delight.  The  majority 
of  the  officers  contented  themselves  with  saying  that  the 
garrison  would  not  be  the  same  place  without  the  colo 
nel  and  herself,  which  was  gospel  truth  despite  its  am 
biguity,  but  Gleason  came  in  from  a  hunt  purposely  to 
say  farewell,  and  was  most  effusive  in  his  regrets  at  her 
ladyship's  departure,  and  as  for  the  ladies  of  the  regi 
ment.  Ah,  well !  Why  should  they  be  any  different, 
any  more  frank  in  garrison  than  out  of  it  ?  There  was 


24  MARION'S  FAITH. 

not  one  of  their  number  who  did  not  inwardly  rejoice 
at  Mrs.  Pelham's  going,  but  they  clouded  their  gentle 
faces  in  decorous  mourning ;  they  grouped  about  her  on 
the  piazza  when  the  hour  for  parting  came,  looking  in 
finitely  pathetic  and  picturesque,  and  the  soft  voices 
were  touching  in  their  subdued  sorrow ;  there  were  even 
eyes  that  glistened  with  unshed  tears,  and  both  Mrs. 
Raymond  and  Mrs.  Turner  begged  that  she  would  write 
to  them,  and  heaven  only  knows  what  all.  Who  that 
saw  it  could  doubt  the  forgiving  nature  of  the  gentler 
sex  ?  Who  dare  asperse  the  sweet  sincerity  of  feminine 
friendship  ? 

But  Lady  Pelham  had  gone,  and  gone  for  good  they 
hoped  ;  the  lieutenant-colonel  had  arrived  and  assumed 
command,  and  Major  and  Mrs.  Stannard  made  their 
first  appearance  at  regimental  headquarters.  A  new 
era  had  dawned  on  the  — th ;  the  staff  sent  in  their 
resignations,  and  were  promptly  and  pleasantly  notified 
by  the  new  commander  that  he  hoped  they  would  not 
deprive  him  of  services  that  had  been  so  valuable  to 
his  predecessor ;  whereat  they  resumed  duty  with 
lighter  hearts.  It  was  all  well  enough  where  Bucketts 
was  concerned ;  he  had  been  quartermaster  for  years 
and  no  one  expected  anything  else,  but  there  were  those 
in  the  regiment  who  hoped  there  might  be  a  change  in 
the  adjutancy.  The  office  was  held  by  one  of  the 
senior  lieutenants,  to  be  sure,  and  one  who  possessed 
many  qualifications  which  were  conceded,  but  his  ap 
pointment  had  been  something  of  an  accident. 

He,  too,  had  come  into  the  — th  by  transfer  in  '71 
for  the  avowed  purpose  of  seeking  service  on  the 
Western  frontier  with  the  cavalry.  As  it  was  the 


GARRISON   TALK.  25 

artillery  which  he  abandoned  for  that  purpose,  the 
— th  admitted  that  here  was  a  fellow  who  might  be 
worth  having,  but,  to  the  scandal  of  the  entire  regiment, 
no  sooner  was  the  order  issued  which  doomed  them 
to  a  five  years7  exile  in  Arizona — then  overrun  with 
hostile  Apaches — than  the  newly  transferred  gentleman 
accepted  a  detail  as  aide-de-camp  on  the  staff  of  a 
general  officer,  and  the  — th  went  across  to  the  Pacific 
and  presently  were  lost  to  recollection  in  the  then 
inaccessible  wilds  of  that  marvellous  Territory.  Here 
they  spent  four  long  years  of  hard  scouting,  hard 
fighting,  and  no  little  suffering,  while  the  aide  in 
question  was  presumably  enjoying  himself  in  unlimited 
ball  and  opera  in  a  gay  Southern  capital.  Suddenly 
he  turned  up  in  their  midst  just  in  time  to  take  part 
in  the  closing  campaign  which  left  the  Apaches  for 
several  years  a  disarmed  and  subjugated  race;  he 
happened  to  get  command  of  a  well-seasoned  and 
thoroughly  experienced  "  troop/7  and  through  no  par 
ticular  personal  merit,  but  rather  by  the  faculty  he 
had  of  seeking  the  advice  of  the  veteran  sergeants  in 
the  company,  he  had  won  two  or  three  lively  little 
fights  with  wandering  bands  of  hostiles,  and  had  finally 
been  quite  enviably  wounded.  It  was  all  a  piece  of 
his  confounded  luck,  said  some  of  the  — th  not  unnat 
urally.  Many  a  gallant  fellow  had  been  killed  and 
buried,  many  another  wounded  and  not  especially  men 
tioned,  and  all  of  them  had  done  months  of  hard  work 
where  Billings  had  put  in  only  so  many  days,  but  here 
he  came  in  at  the  eleventh  hour,  and  they,  who  had 
borne  the  heat  and  burden  of  the  campaign  and  re 
ceived  every  man  his  penny,  couldn't  help  a  few  good- 
B  3 


26  MARION'S  FAITH. 

natured  slings  at  the  fact  that  Billings's  penny  was 
just  as  big  and  round  as  theirs.  The  department 
commander  had  been  close  at  hand  every  time  that 
fortunate  youth  came  in  from  a  scout,  and  even  Ray, 
who  was  incessantly  seeking  the  roughest  and  most 
dangerous  service,  could  not  repress  a  wistful  expression 
of  his  views  when  he  heard  of  the  final  scrimmage  far 
up  towards  Chevelon's  Fork.  "  Here  we  fellows  have 
been  bucking  against  this  game  for  nigh  onto  four  years 
now,  and  if  ever  we  raked  in  a  pile  it's  all  been  ante'd 
up  since,  and  now  Billings  comes  in  fresh — never  draws 
but  he  gets  a  full  hand — and  he  scoops  the  deck.  He 
has  too  much  luck  for  a  white  man."  The  remark  was 
one  that,  said  by  Ray  himself  in  his  whimsical  and 
downright  manner,  was  destitute  of  any  hidden  mean 
ing,  and  Billings,  who  had  not  seen  Ray  for  years, 
would  never  have  misunderstood  it,  but  when  he  first 
heard  it  six  months  afterwards,  and  while  Ray  and 
himself  had  yet  to  meet,  it  was  told  semi-confidentially, 
told  as  Ray  never  said  it,  told  in  fact — by  Gleason ; 
and  Billings,  who  was  of  a  nervous,  sensitive  disposi 
tion,  as  outspoken  in  a  way  as  Ray  was  in  his,  was 
hurt  more  than  a  little.  He  had  known  Ray  a  dozen 
years  before  when  both  were  wearing  the  gray  as  cadets 
at  the  Point,  but  they  were  in  diiferent  classes  and  by 
no  means  intimate.  Each,  however,  had  cordially  liked 
the  other,  and  Billings  would  have  been  slow  to  believe 
the  statement  as  told  him  for  a  single  instant  except 
for  two  things, — one  was  that  Gleason  was  a  new  ac 
quaintance  of  whom  up  to  that  time  he  knew  nothing 
really  discreditable ;  the  other  was  that  just  before  the 
regiment  came  East  from  Arizona  the  adjutancy  became 


GARRISON  TALK.  27 

vacant,  Lieutenant  Truscott,  who  had  long  held  the 
position,  was  detailed  for  duty  at  West  Point  and 
speedily  promoted  to  his  captaincy ;  Billings  was 
brought  in  wounded  and  sent  off  by  sea  to  San  Fran 
cisco  as  soon  as  he  could  travel,  and  so  heard  little  of 
the  particulars  of  some  strange  mystery  that  was  going 
on  at  regimental  headquarters,  and  when,  some  months 
later,  he  rejoined  the  regiment  in  Kansas,  it  was  with 
much  mental  perturbation  that  he  received  from  "  Old 
Catnip77  the  offer  of  the  still  vacant  adjutancy. 

Of  course,  he  had  heard  by  that  time  just  why 
Truscott  had  resigned  and  refused  to  re-accept  the  posi 
tion  ;  he  also  knew  that  the  colonel  had  said  that  he 
could  give  it  to  no  officer  who  had  not  served  with 
them  in  the  rough  days  in  Arizona;  and,  moreover, 
that  he  had  once  declared  that  offering  the  adjutancy  to 
a  second  lieutenant  was  equivalent  to  saying  that  no 
first  lieutenant  was  capable  of  performing  the  duties. 
But  he  did  not  know  that  soon  after  Truscott7s  resigna 
tion  the  colonel  had  tendered  the  adjutancy  to  Ray,  and 
that  impolitic  youth  had  promptly  declined.  He  knew, 
as  did  the  whole  regiment,  that  for  Truscott  Ray  had 
an  enthusiastic  admiration  and  regard,  and  for  that 
matter,  Billings  himself  had  reason  to  look  upon  the 
ex-adjutant  as  a  friend  worth  having ;  but  he  did  not 
suspect,  as  some  at  old  Camp  Sandy  more  than  sus 
pected,  that  Ray  had  been  offered  his  place.  The  colo 
nel,  in  his  surprise  and  mortification,  would  speak  of  it 
to  no  one.  Ray,  in  his  blunt  honesty,  conceived  it  to 
be  his  duty  to  regard  the  offer  as  confidential,  since  he 
had  declined,  and  so,  snubbed  any  one  who  strove  to 
extract  information.  Most  of  the  senior  lieutenants 


28  MARION'S  FAITH. 

were  on  detached  service  when  they  came  in  from  Ari 
zona.  Everybody  thought  Stryker  would  get  the  detail 
as  soon  as  he  returned  from  abroad,  whither  he  had 
gone  on  leave  after  making,  as  mountain  scout  leader, 
the  best  four  years'  record  in  the  regiment ;  but  Stryker 
came  just  as  Billings  did,  and  to  Billings,  not  Stryker, 
was  the  adjutancy  tendered.  What  made  the  regiment 
indignant  was,  that  so  far  from  being  in  the  least  put 
out  about  it,  Stryker  placidly  remarked  that  Billings 
was  the  very  man  for  the  place.  "  He  isn't  entitled  to 
it,"  said  the  — th ;  "  in  ten  years'  service  he  hasn't 
spent  ten  months  with  us."  But  Stryker  did  not  see 
fit  to  tell  them  what  he  knew  and  the  colonel  knew, — 
that  he  had  been  tendered  and  had  accepted  the  position 
of  aide-de-camp  to  his  old  Arizona  chief,  and  was  daily 
awaiting  orders  to  join  ;  and  Ray  was  off  scouting  with 
his  troop  when  Billings  reached  headquarters,  and  had 
to  face,  as  he  supposed,  an  opposition.  Stannard  was 
the  only  man  who  really  "knew  very  much  about  him 
as  a  cavalry  officer,  and  Stannard's  opinion  was  what 
brought  it  all  about.  They  had  served  for  some 
months  at  the  same  post,  and  both  the  major  and  his 
clear-sighted  wife  had  taken  a  fancy  to  the  young  officer, 
whose  first  appearance  in  "  citified  garb  and  a  pince- 
nez"  gave  little  promise  of  future  useful  ness  in  the 
field.  Pelham  and  Stannard  knew  that  it  had  to  be 
Billings  or  a  second  lieutenant,  but  Billings  had  at  first 
no  such  intimation.  Possibly  his  strong  sense  of  self- 
esteem  might  have  stood  in  the  way  of  acceptance  had 
he  supposed  that  he  was  merely  a  last  resort.  Stannard 
really  hoped  he  would  be  the  appointee,  but  all  he 
would  say  to  the  colonel  when  asked  for  his  opinion 


GARRISON  TALK.  29 

was,  "  I  have  had  less  to  find  fault  with  in  him  than 
any  officer  who  ever  served  in  my  troop ;  but  then  he 
was  only  with  me  six  months  or  so.  /  like  him/7 
which  was  tantamount  to  saying  others  probably 
wouldn't.  But  Stannard  and  Billings  were  firm 
friends,  as  anybody  could  see,  and  the  colonel  was 
quick  to  note  that  when  Stannard  had  given  Billings 
anything  to  do,  he  bothered  himself  no  further  about 
the  matter,  instead  of  going  along  and  supervising  as 
was  his  wont  with  most  of  the  others.  "  If  he's  good 
enough  for  Stannard,  he'll  do  for  me/'  was  the  colonel's 
comment,  and  when  Billings  sought  to  decline  the  ap 
pointment  offered,  hinting,  with  well-meant  but  awk 
ward  delicacy,  that  perhaps  it  ought  to  go  to  some  man 
of  more  established  reputation  and  record  in  the  regi 
ment,  the  colonel  cut  him  short  with,  "  Here,  Mr.  Bil 
lings,  I  must  have  some  one  at  once ;  old  Bucketts  has 
been  doing  office- work  as  both  quartermaster  and  adju 
tant  until  he  is  getting  used  up,  and  young  Dana  is 
only  good  for  parade  and  guard-mounting.  I'll  detail 
you  as  acting  adjutant,  and  if  you  like  it,  at  the  end  of 
a  week  we'll  make  the  appointment  permanent.  Con 
sult  your  friends  meantime,  if  you  choose."  And  so 
it  happened  that  when  Stannard  said,  "Take  it/' and 
Stryker  told  him  quietly  that  there  were  reasons  why 
he  himself  would  have  had  to  decline,  Billings  shook 
his  head  a  few  minutes  in  thinking  over  what  he  had 
heard  of  Mrs.  Pel  ham,  and  wished  he  might  see  Ray 
and  make  him  understand  that  he  thought  the  place 
should  go  to  him,  but  Stannard  said,  emphatically,  that 
Ray  was  too  harum-scarum  for  office- work,  good  as  he 
was  in  the  field.  And  then  came  a  brief  letter  from 

3* 


30  MARION'S  FAITH. 

Truscott,  cordial  and  straight  to  the  point  as  ever.  It 
wound  up  by  saying,  "  The  colonel  attributes  your  hesi 
tation  to  the  fact  that  you  think  it  ought  to  go  to  some 
man  who  has  served  longer  with  the  regiment.  We 
respect  that,  and  appreciate  it ;  but  you  are  offered  this 
with  the  best  backing  in  the  regiment, — Stannard's, — 
and  with  that  you  can  afford  to  laugh  at  anything  the 
growlers  may  say." 

The  next  morning  the  order  was  issued  in  due  form. 
That  afternoon  Mr.  Ray,  returning  dusty  and  unshorn 
from  a  two  weeks'  scout  up  the  Saline,  was  informed  of 
the  fact  as  he  stood  at  the  stables  unstrapping  from  the 
back  of  his  sorrel  the  carcass  of  a  fat  antelope,  gave  a 
low  whistle,  remarked,  "  Well,  I'm  damned  !"  and,  as 
bad  luck  would  have  it,  postponed  rushing  in  to  con 
gratulate  Billings  until  dinner,  when,  to  his  genuine 
disappointment,  the  latter  did  not  appear.  He  was 
dining  at  the  colonel's  to  meet  some  officers  from  Leaven- 
worth,  and  when  the  new  adjutant  went  to  his  rooms  late 
that  night  he  had  not  seen  Ray  at  all,  but  there  was 
that  man  Gleason  smoking  a  cigar,  sipping  a  toddy,  and 
evidently  primed  for  a  chat.  Already  Billings  had 
begun  to  look  upon  him  with  disfavor,  but  could  find  no 
reason  to  avoid  him  entirely  ;  he  did  not  welcome  the 
unwanted  guest ;  he  could  not  chill  him.  Gleason  had 
his  chat,  and,  when  Ray  stepped  forward  with  sunny 
smile  and  glistening  Avhite  teeth  and  cordial,  outstretched 
hand  the  next  morning,  Billings  looked  him  in  the  eye, 
took  his  hand,  but  there  was  no  warmth  in  the  welcome, 
and  Ray  felt  rebuffed.  "  I  heard  Ned  Billings  had  de 
veloped  into  something  of  a  snob,"  said  he  afterwards, 
"  but  he's  changed  more,  for  a  frank-hearted  fellow  that 


GARRISON  TALK.  31 

he  was  ten  years  ago,  than  any  man  I  know."  And  so  it 
happened  that  two  men  whose  lives  were  closely  inter 
woven  from  that  time  on,  who  had  much  in  common, 
who,  "  had  they  but  known/7  could  never  have  drifted 
apart,  began  the  next  stage  with  an  unknown,  unseen, 
yet  undeniable  influence  thrusting  them  asunder.  And 
it  was  of  these  two  men  that  the  picturesque  group  on 
the  colonel's  piazza  happened  to  be  speaking  this  very 
May  morning  as  the  major  and  Mr.  Ray,  dismounting 
at  the  south  gate,  strolled  lazily  up  the  lane.  It  was 
the  habit  of  the  former  when  not-  on  military  duty  to 
thrust  his  hands  deep  down  into  his  trousers  pockets, 
and  allow  his  ample  and  aldermanic  paunch  to  repose  its 
weight  upon  his  sabre-belt.  As  the  belt  was  worn  only 
at  the  hours  of  drill  or  parade,  it  followed  that  there 
were  lapses  of  time  wherein  the  paunch  knew  no  such 
military  trammel,  and  a  side  elevation  of  the  battalion 
commander  warranted  the  simile  put  in  circulation  by 
Lieutenant  Blake :  "  The  major  looked  as  though  he 
had  swallowed  a  drum."  Ray,  on  the  contrary,  was 
slimly,  even  elegantly  built,  a  trifle  taller  than  his  bulky 
superior,  and  though  indolent  in  his  general  movements, 
excitement  or  action  transformed  him  in  an  instant. 
Then  in  every  motion  he  was  quick  as  a  cat.  It  Avas 
his  wont  to  wear  his  forage-cap  far  down  over  his  fore 
head  and  canted  very  much  over  the  right  eye,  while, 
contrary  to  the  fashion  of  that  day,  his  dark  hair  fell 
below  the  visor  in  a  sweeping  and  decided  "  ban^"  al 
most  to  his  eyebrows,  which  were  thick,  dark  brown, 
and  low-arched.  A  semi-defiant  backward  toss  of  the 
head  was  the  result  as  much  perhaps  of  the  method  of 
wearing  his  cap  as  of  any  pronounced  mental  character- 


32  MARION'S  FAITH. 

istic.  When  Stannard  was  talking  eagerly  of  any  sub 
ject  his  hands  went  deeper  into  his  pockets,  his  head 
thrust  forward,  and  his  eyes  fairly  popped,  as  though 
slight  additional  pressure  would  project  them  into  spaw 
like  many-tinted  grape-shot.  If  he  were  standing  still, 
he  tilted  on  his  toes  and  dropped  his  head  to  one  side 
as  he  expounded,  until  the  ear  wellnigh  reposed  upon 
the  shoulder-strap.  Ray,  on  the  other  hand,  threw  his 
head  farther  back  and,  unless  he  was  angry,  showed  his 
white  teeth  to  the  molars. 

As  they  came  along  the  walk  from  the  main  gate  and 
passed  one  by  one  the  snug  little  brown  cottages  known 
as  the  officers'  quarters,  the  ladies  grouped  on  the  colo 
nel's  piazza  began  their  very  natural  comment, — there 
were  no  other  men  in  sight  on  that  side  of  the  garrison. 

"  Last  year  you  never  saw  Major  Stannard  without 
Mr. Billings;  now  you  never  see  him  with  him,  and  he 
is  just  as  chummy  with  Mr.  Ray,"  remarked  our  old 
friend  Mrs.  Turner,  who  was  languidly  swinging  in  the 
hammock,  her  eyes  commanding  a  view  of  the  side 
walk,  and  the  sidewalk  commanding  a  view  of  her  very 
presentable  feet  encased  in  a  new  pair  of  French  heeled 
slippers,  and  stockings  whose  delicate  mauve  tint 
matched  the  ribbons  of  her  airy  dress. 

"  Well,  Mr.  Billings  is  adjutant  and  cooped  up  in 
the  office  all  day,"  was  the  reply  of  Mrs.  Raymond, 
who  could  readily  find  reason  for  taking  exception  to 
the  remarks  or  theories  of  her  next-door  neighbor  and 
social  rival. 

There  were  five  ladies  in  the  group,  all  under  thirty, 
two  of  them  under  twenty,  only  one  unmarried,  none 
of  them  avowedly  interested  in  either  of  the  two  offi- 


GARRISON  TALK.  33 

cers  slowly  approaching.  No  one  of  them,  however, 
neglected  a  sweeping  glance  at  her  draperies  or  some 
slight  readjustment  of  pose  or  petticoat.  Possibly  the 
formality  would  have  been  equally  observed  had  they 
all  been  over  fifty. 

"  I  never  could  understand  why  Mr.  Billings  was 
made  adjutant,"  remarked  the  one  spinster,  her  eyes 
dreamily  resting  on  the  lithe  form  of  Mr.  Ray.  "  I 
don't  mean,  of  course,  that  he  doesn't  do  very  well,  but 
— there  were  so  many  others  who  would  have — at  least 
who  deserved  it  so  much  more." 

"  Well,  you  must  remember  this,"  responded  Mrs. 
Turner,  "  there  wasn't  anybody  else  when  it  was  given 
to  him,  and  there  was  no  real  reason  why  the  colonel 
should  remove  him  when  he  took  command.  Mr. 
Stryker  was  going  as  aide-de-camp ;  Mr.  Gleason — 
well,  anybody  knows  he  wouldn't  do ;  Mr.  Crane  and 
Mr.  Wilkins  were  neither  of  them  fit  for  it ;  Mr.  Ray 
wouldn't  have  it,  and  Mr.  Blake  and  Mr.  Freeman 
hadn't  joined.  It  was  really  Billings  or  nobody,  ex 
cept,  of  course,  the  second  lieutenants.  Dear  me  !  how 
I  wish  one  of  them  could  have  been  appointed  !"  And 
Mrs.  Turner  sighed  pathetically.  The  younger  officers 
were  her  especial  henchmen,  and  each  in  turn  paid  his 
devotion  a  year  or  more  at  the  shrine.  If  any  one  of 
them  had  been  put  in  power,  how  much  easier  'twould 
have  been  to  get  the  band  every  evening  !  and  then  the 
hops  wouldn't  have  to  close  at  midnight  either !  and 
Mrs.  Turner  was  devoted  to  dancing. 

"  But  papa  says  Mr.  Billings  is  right  about  not  let 
ting  the  band  play  after  midnight,"  broke  in  the  young 
lady,  whose  years  -h,id  been  spent  in  many  a  garrison, 


34  MARION'S  FAITH. 

and  whose  papa — the  post  surgeon — had  pronounced 
views  on  matters  of  military  and  medical  discipline. 
"  Papa  says  the  officers  have  no  right  to  make  the  band 
play  until  late  at  night  unless  they  pay  them  extra. 
They  have  to  be  up  at  reveille,  and  it's  a  shame  to  mak** 
them  work  all  day  and  at  night  too  !" 

"  The  doctor  is  by  no  means  alone  in  that  idea/'  be 
gan  a  third  speaker  in  a  quiet  voice,  and  both  Mrs. 
Turner  and  Mrs.  Raymond,  who  had  impulsively  burst 
into  speech  at  the  same  instant,  checked  their  nimble 
tongues,  bridled,  sweetly  said,  "I  beg  your  pardon, 
Mrs.  Stannard,77  and  inclined  attentive  ears  to  a  lady 
who  at  the  moment  had  stepped  from  the  open  dc.or-way 
to  the  piazza.  It  was  evident  that  she  was  a  late  arrival, 
in  whose  presence  the  others  felt  bound  to  observe  the 
deferential  manners  which  further  intimacy  would  pos 
sibly  extinguish.  "  Indeed,77  she  went  on,  "  only  this 
morning  at  breakfast  Colonel  Foster  was  saying  that 
the  bandsmen  were  getting  their  full  share  of  work, 
and  that  Mr.  Billings  was  quite  right  in  the  stand  he 
made  in  the  matter.77 

"  Ah,  Mrs.  Stannard,  I  don't  wonder  Mr.  Billings  is 
devoted  to  you !"  said  Mrs.  Raymond.  "  You  are 
always  ready  to  defend  him.77 

"  He  was  in  our  troop,  you  know,  and  I  feel  that  he 
belongs  to  us  to  a  certain  extent,77  said  Mrs.  Stannard, 
smiling  brightly,  and  nodding  pleasant  greetings  to  the 
two  officers  who  were  passing  at  the  moment,  still  intent 
in  their  earnest  talk.  The  major  merely  glanced  at  the 
piazza  and  pulled  off  his  cap,  as  though  he  wished  its 
fair  occupants  were  beyond  saluting  distance.  Ray 
bowed  with  laughing  grace,  and  sung  out  cheerily, — 


GARRISON   TALK.  35 

"Don't  expect  the  major  home  just  yet,  Mrs.  Stan- 
nard ;  he's  giving  me  fits,  and  I'm  in  for  a  lecture." 

The  ladies  were  silent  a  moment,  until  the  pair  had 
passed  on  out  of  earshoot.  Then  Mrs.  Turner  took  up 
the  cudgels  again. 

"And  yet,  Mrs.  Stannard,  it  wasn't  so  when  Mr. 
Truscott  was  adjutant.  We  could  have  the  band  night 
after  night  if  we  wanted  to,  and  surely  you  won't  say 
that  Mr,  Truscott  wasn't  the  very  paragon  of  an  adju 
tant." 

"  No,  indeed,"  was  the  reply.  "  We  all  know  how 
unequalled  Mr.  Truscott  was ;  but  then,  were  not  the 
conditions  very  different,  Mrs.  Turner?  For  instance, 
in  Arizona  the  band  was  not  mounted,  the  men  had  no 
stable  duty,  and  it  was  so  hot  in  the  daytime  that  they 
really  had  no  duty  to  perform  but  to  play  after  dark 
when  it  was  cool.  Now,  here  they  have  their  horses, 
they  have  two  parades  each  day ;  they  practice  every 
morning,  and  play  on  the  parade  every  afternoon  ;  that, 
with  morning  and  evening  stable  duty,  keeps  them  very 
busy,  and  don't  you  think  Mr.  Billings  is  right?" 

Now,  all  this  was  well  understood  by  both  Mrs.  Tur 
ner  and  Mrs.  Turner's  friends,  and  as  put  by  Mrs. 
Stannard,  the  case  was  clearly  in  favor  of  the  bands 
men  and  the  adjutant.  DowTn  in  the  depths  of  her 
consciousness  Mrs.  Turner  was  well  aware  of  the  fact. 
She  had  gone  over  the  fight  with  her  liege  lord,  the 
captain,  more  than  once  since  the  spring  weather  had 
set  in  and  the  services  of  the  band  were  in  requisition 
several  hours  each  day.  She  knew  perfectly  well  that 
there  was  no  parallel  in  the  conditions  existing  in  Ari 
zona  in  Mr.  Truscott's  time  and  tho.oe  of  the  day  in 


36  MARION'S  FAITH. 

Kansas  with  Billings.  Still,  she  wanted  to  contrast 
the  men  and  their  methods,  and,  as.  is  not  unusual, 
pronounced  the  abstract  statement  that  "  it  wasn't  so 
with  Mr.  Truscott.  Then  we  could  have  the  band 
night  after  night.'7  She  was  only  stating  a  fact,  was 
her  mental  justification,  but  that  she  was  doing  an  in 
justice  she  would  probably  have  not  admitted  for  an 
instant. 

Mrs.  Stannard,  however,  had  seen  through  the  argu 
ment,  and  in  her  courteous  way  had  shattered  its  effect. 
This  put  Mrs.  Turner  on  her  mettle,  and  she  half  rose 
from  the  hammock. 

"  Don't  for  a  moment  think  I  mean  to  criticise  Mr. 
Billings,  Mrs.  Stannard ;  I  really  like  him,  very  much  ; 
only  it's  so  poky  not  to  have  the  band  now.  The 
evenings  are  so  lovely  for  dancing,  and  with  so  many 
young  officers  here,  it  seems  such  a  pity  to  waste  so 
much  time.  They  are  out  drilling  or  shooting,  or 
something,  all  day  long,  and  who  knows  but  what 
they'll  all  be  ordered  off  somewhere  the  next  minute? 
Then  we  can  have  the  band  all  day  and  nobody  to 
dance  with.  It's  always  the  way." 

"  Well,  I  like  Mr.  Billings,  too,"  said  Mrs.  Ray 
mond,  eager  to  say  something  pleasant  of  Mrs.  Stan- 
nard's  friend ;  "  and  Captain  Raymond  says  he  is  a 
very  soldierly  officer, — very  military,  I  mean, — and 
knows  his  duties  so  well,  only  we  can't  help  contrasting 
him  with  Mr.  Truscott.  Mr.  Truscott  was  so  dignified 
and  calm  and  deliberate,  while  Mr.  Billings  is  a  regular 
bunch  of  springs.  They  say  he's  very  quick  and  iras 
cible  ;  real  peppery,  you  know ;  but  I  suppose  that  is 
because  they  bother  him  a  good  dral." 


GARRISON  TALK.  37 

"Mr.  Billings  has  a  very  nervous  temperament  I 
know,"  replied  Mrs.  Stannard,  "  but  we  never  thought 
him  ill-tempered  at  Fort  Gaines,  and  certainly  Captain 
Truscott  thinks  all  the  world  of  him.  They  correspond 
constantly,  and  only  last  evening  he  showed  me  a  letter 
just  received  from  the  captain." 

"  Did  he  ?"  said  Mrs.  Turner,  with  sudden  interest. 
"  What  did  he  say  about  Grace  ?" 

"  About  Mrs.  Truscott  ?"  said  Mrs.  Stannard,  smil 
ingly.  "  He  said  a  good  deal  about  her.  She  was  so 
bright  and  well  and  so  pleased  with  West  Point,  and 
they  had  such  lovely  quarters,  looking  right  out  on  the 
plain  where  they  could  see  everything  that  was  going 
on,  and  Miss  Sanford  was  visiting  them " 

"What  Miss  Sanford?"  asked  Mrs.  Turner,  with 
that  feminine  impetuosity  which  is  born  of  an  incre 
dulity  as  to  any  one's  being  able  to  convey  information 
in  one's  own  time  and  way. 

"Miss  Marion  Sanford.  She  was  a  classmate  of 
Mrs.  Truscott's  in  their  school-days,  and  belongs  to 
a  wealthy  New  Jersey  family,  Mr.  Billings  says." 

"  Oh,  I  know  !"  said  Mrs.  Raymond.  "  She's  that 
handsome  girl  in  the  album  that  Grace  had  at  Sandy, 
don't  you  know  ?  with  the  Worth  dress  and  the  some 
thing  or  other  the  matter  with  her  forehead, — a  burn 
or  a  birth-mark, — wears  her  hair  so  low  over  it.  Don't 
you  know  ?  Grace  told  us  she  had  such  a  sad  history, 
— her  mother  died  when  she  was  sixteen  and  her 
father  married  again,  and  she  has  her  mother's  for 
tune  and. had  gone  abroad.  She  was  travelling  with 
the  Zabriskies  and  was  presented  at  court  last  year,  and 
the  Prince  of  Wales  said  something  or  other  about  her. 

4 


Jg  MARION'S  FAITH. 

Don't  you  know  ?  we  read  it  in  the  New  York  some 
thing  as  we  were  coming  out  on  the  Kansas  Pacific 
last  fall.  My !  Just  think  of  her  at  West  Point ! 
What  a  catch  !"  And  Mrs.  Raymond  paused,  breathless 
with  admiration,  not  with  effort.  Talking  fatigued 
her  far  less  than  silence. 

"Yes,  Mrs.  Kaymond,  that  is  the  very  one,  I  be 
lieve,"  continued  Mrs.  Stannard  in  her  pleasant  tones, 
as  soon  as  the  lady  came  to  a  full  stop.  "  Mr.  Billings 
says  that  he  has  heard  that  her  father  married  a  very 
unpleasant  woman  the  last  time,  and  that  'twas  said  he 
would  be " 

"  What !  Mr.  Billings  said  that  ?  Oh,  Mrs.  Stannard, 
how  rejoiced  I  am  to  hear  it !  Captain  Turner  tried  to 
make  me  believe  that  he  was  another  Truscott  in  his 
horror  of  gossip.  Now,  won't  I  crow  over  him  when 
he  comes  in  to  dinner  ?" 

"  Not  crow,  dear, — cackle,"  suggested  Mrs.  Raymond, 
mildly  ;  "  it's  the  other  sex  that  does  the  crowing." 

"Very  possibly  I  have  betrayed  a  trust,"  laughed 
Mrs.  Stannard,  coming  to  the  rescue  in  the  interests 
of  harmony.  "  It  was  my  mistake  in  referring  to  it. 
Do  tell  me  about  Mrs.  Truscott;  you  know  I  never 
met  her." 

"  What  is  there  to  tell  except  .that  she  is  Mrs.  Trus 
cott,"  half  laughed,  half  pouted  Mrs.  Turner,  who 
never  quite  forgave  the  fact  that  her  queendom,  real 
or  imaginary,  had  been  invaded  by  that  very  lady  a 
year  before,  to  the  temporary  loss  of  her  throne.  As 
Grace  Pelham,  Mrs.  Truscott  had  won  all  hearts  at 
Sandy.  "  She  is  undeniably  pretty  and  lady-like  ; 
but  what  else  can  any  one  say  of  her?  Stylish?  no. 


GARRISON   TALK.  39 

Now,  Mrs.  Raymond,  you  need  not  try  and  say  you 
think  her  stylish,  because  only  last  year  at  Prescott  you 
wouldn't  admit  it.  And  as  to  her  winning  Mr.  Trus- 
cott  as  she  did,  it  is  simply  incomprehensible.  What 
men  see  in  some  women  is  beyond  me.  She  is  neither 
deep,  nor  intellectual,  nor  particularly  well  read  that 
/ever  saw  or  heard  of,  and  how  she's  a  match  for  him, 
as  people  say,  I  can't  see.  He's  just  head  over  heels 
in  love  with  her, — at  least  he  was, — and  she  was  simply 
wrapped  up  in  him, — at  least  she  is.  You  ought  to  have 
seen  the  letter  she  wrote  Mrs.  Page  a  few  months  ago ; 
all  about  her  happiness  and  Jack, — -just  as  if  there 
never  had  been  another  man  in  the  world  worth  look 
ing  at.  She'd  have  been  just  as  rapturous  over  Mr. 
Glenham  if  she'd  married  him  as  she  promised  to  do, 
I  haven't  a  doubt,  or  Ray.  He  was  ready  to  bow  down 
and  worship  her  at  one  time ;  and  she  encouraged  him 
not  a  little  before  we  left  Sandy,  too." 

"  Don't  you  believe  that"  interposed  Mrs.  Raymond. 
"  They  were  warm  friends,  I  know,  but  Ray  was  never 
her  lover." 

"  You  always  will  contradict  me,  Nellie/'  protested 
Mrs.  Turner;  "  but -if  you  could  not  see  what  every  one 
else  saw  you  were  simply  blind.  I  wonder  she  doesn't 
sometimes  regret  not  marrying  Glenham,  though.  They 
say  he  has  gone  abroad  and  has  more  money  than  he 
can  ever  spend." 

"  More  than  he  ever  could  if  he's  as  close  as  he  was 
in  Arizona,"  interposed  Mrs.  Raymond. 

"  But  did  you  not  know  that  Captain  Truscott's  ven 
tures  were  coming  out  wonderfully  well  ?"  asked  Mrs. 
Stannard,  eager  to  give  a  pleasanter  tone  to  the  talk. 


40  MARION'S  FAITH. 

"  I  heard  not  only  that  was  true,  but  that  an  uncle  had 
left  him  a  good  deal  of  money.  Cue  thing  is  certain, 
they  have  fitted  up  their  quarters  beautifully  at  the 
Point,  and  are  living  there  in  a  good  deal  of  style." 

"Here  come  the  officers  in  from  drill/7  exclaimed 
Mrs.  Turner,  as  a  group  of  bronzed  and  soldierly-look 
ing  men  came  suddenly  around  the  corner  of  the  adju 
tant's  office  and  strolled  towards  them.  "  Ask  Captain 
Merrill,  he  will  know.  Captain  Merrill"  she  called, 
raising  her  voice.  "  Do  come  here  a  moment,"  And 
obediently  he  came,  doffing  his  cap  and  accepting  the 
seat  tendered  him  beside  her  by  Mrs.  Raymond. 

"  You  were  at  the  Point  last  month.  Is  it  true  that 
Captain  Truscott  has  a  good  deal  of  money  now  ?" 

"  Can't  prove  it  by  me,  rnadame,"  said  Merrill,  sen- 
tentiously.  "  Ask  Blake.  He's  our  Jenkins.  How  is 
it,  Blake?" 

"  Don't  call  me  pet  names,  dearie.  '  When  my  tongue 
olabs  then  let  mine  eyes  not  see/  "  declaimed  Mr.  Blake, 
sauntering  up  to  the  group  and  swinging  a  long,  lean 
leg  over  the  railing.  "  What  do  you  want  to  know  ?" 

"  Is  Mr.— Captain  Truscott  rich  ?". 

"  If  my  individual  experiences  are  indicative,  I  should 
say  he  was  boundless  in  wealth  and  prodigality." 

"Why?" 

"  He  lent  me  a  hundred  dollars  when  I  was  East  on 
leave,  and  I  know  he  never  expects  to  see  it  again." 

"  I  declare,  Mr.  Blake,  you  are  as  bad  as  Mr.  Ray  !" 

"  They  are  scoundrels  and  substractors  that  say  so  of 
rne.  Mrs.  Turner,  you — you  make  me  blush.  Ray, 
come  hither  and  bear  me  consolation.  Friend  of  my 
youth,  Merrill  calls  me  Jenkins  ;  Mrs.  Turner  calls  me 


GARRISON   TALK.  41 

bad  as  you ;  and  you — called  me  with  a  pair  of  kings 
when  mine  was  a  bobtail.  The  world  is  hollow,  Ray." 

"  Mr.  Blake  !  Will  you  stop  your  everlasting  non 
sense  and  tell  us  about  Truscott?  When  were  you 
there?" 

"Mrs.  Turner,  you  aggrieve  me,  but  I  was  there  in 
April." 

"  And  are  they  so  delightfully  situated  ?" 

"  Yea,  verily, — blissfully." 

"  Was  Miss  Sanford  there  ?" 

"  She  came,  alas  !  the  very  eve  I  hied  me  hence.  I 
saw  her  but  a  moment ;  'twas " 

"  You  saw  her  ?  Tell  us  what  she's  like.  Is  she 
pretty  ?  is  she  sweet-mannered  as  they  say  ?" 

"Sweet?  She's  sweet,  aye,  dix-huit;  at  least  she 
was  a  year  agone.  Pretty  ?  Ah  me !"  And  Blake 
sighed  profoundly,  and  straddled  the  rail  a  picture  of 
dejection.  His  auditors  groaned  in  chorus,  the  custom 
ary  recognition  of  one  of  Blake's  puns,  but  gathered 
about  him  in  manifest  interest.  With  all  his  rattling 
nonsense  he  was  a  regimental  pet. 

"  But  where  is  she  from  ?  What  connection  of  the 
New  Jersey  Sanford  ?" 

"  The  Autocrat  of  the  Preakness  Stable,  mean  you  ? 
Marry,  I  know  not.  She  is  a  Sanford  and  has  a  San- 
ford's  wealth,  but  'twas  not  for  me.  She  adores  a  horse 
and  worships  a  horseman.  This  I  gathered  from  our 
too  brief  converse.  I  strove  to  win  her  ear  with  poesie, 
but  she  bade  me  cease.  Her  soul  is  not  attuned  to 
melody, — she'd  none  of  mine.  She  preferred  my  Lady 
Truscott  and  buttered  muffins." 

"What  did  Truscott  say  about  Crook's  fight  with 


42  MARION'S  FAITH. 

Crazy  Horse  ?"  asked  Ray,  who  looked  blank  enough 
at  Blake's  jargon,  and  wanted  facts. 

"  I  don't  think  Jack  liked  the  looks  of  things/'  said 
Blake,  relapsing  into  sudden  gravity.  "  He  told  me 
that  he  thought  it  more  than  likely  we'd  all  be  in  the 
field  again  in  less  than  a  month." 

"  We  ?"  said  Merrill.  "  It  isn't  a  matter  that  affects 
Truscott  one  way  or  another.  He  has  his  four  years' 
detail  at  the  Point.  What  difference  does  it  make  to 
him  whether  we're  ordered  up  to  reinforce  Crook  ?" 

"  Just  this  difference,  my  bully  rook  :  that  Truscott 
would  catch  us  before  we  got  to  Laramie — unless  we 
went  by  rail." 

"  Why,  Blake,  you're  addled !"  replied  the  captain, 
in  that  uncomplimentary  directness  which  sometimes 
manifests  itself  among  old  comrades  of  the  frontier, 
even  in  the  presence  of  the  gentler  sex.  "  Why,  Mr. 
Blake,  you  don't  suppose  he  is  going  to  give  up  his 
young  wife,  his  lovely  home,  his  pleasant  duties,  to 
join  for  a  mere  Indian  campaign,  do  you?"  asked 
more  than  one  present,  and  a  general  murmur  of  dis 
sent  went  round.  "  What  do  you  say,  major  ?"  said 
one  voice,  in  direct  appeal  to  the  senior  officer  of  the 
group. 

"  It  depends  on  what  you  consider  a  l  mere  Indian 
campaign/  "  was  the  cool  response. 

"But  as  to  Truscott's  going,  what  do  you  think, 
Ray?" 

"  I  don't  think  anything  about  it.     I  know  " 


HEROINES.  43 


CHAPTEE    III. 

HEROINES. 

"WHAT  is  so  rare  as  a  day  in  June?"  sings  the 
poet,  and  where  can  a  day  in  June  be  more  beautiful 
than  at  this  Highland  Gate  of  the  peerless  Hudson  ? 
It  is  June  of  the  Centennial  year,  and  all  the  land  is 
ablaze  with  patriotic  fervor.  From  North,  from  South, 
from  East  and  West,  the  products  of  a  nation's  inge 
nuity  or  a  nation's  toil  have  been  garnered  in  one 
vast  exhibition  at  the  Quaker  City ;  and  thither  flock 
the  thousands  of  our  people.  It  is  June  of  a  presiden 
tial  nomination,  and  the  eyes  of  statesmen  and  politi 
cians  are  fixed  on  Cincinnati.  It  is  the  celebration  of 
the  first  century  of  a  nation's  life  that  engrosses  the 
thoughts  of  millions  of  hearts,  and  between  that  great 
jubilee  and  that  quadrennial  tempest-in-a-teapot,  the 
nomination,  who  but  a  few  lonely  wives  and  children 
have  time  to  think  of  those  three  columns  far,  far  out 
in  the  broad  Northwest. — those  three  columns  of  reg 
ulars,  cavalry  and  infantry,  rough-garbed,  bronzed  and 
bearded,  steadily  closing  in  towards  the  wild  and  beau 
tiful  region  along  the  northern  water-shed  of  the  Big 
Horn  Range,  where  ten  thousand  hostile  Indians  are 
uneasily  watching  their  coming  ?  On  the  Atlantic  sea 
board  comrades  in  full-dress  uniform,  with  polished 
arms,  are  standing  guard  over  government  treasures  on 
exhibition,  and  thoughtless  thousands  wonder  at  the  ease 


44  MARIONS  FAITH, 

and  luxury  of  the  soldier's  life.  Out  on  the  frontier,  in 
buckskin  and  flannel,  slouch  hats  and  leggings,  and 
bristling  prairie-belts,  the  little  army  is  concentrating 
upon  an  outnumbering  foe,  whose  signal-fires  light  the 
way  by  night,  whose  trail  is  red  with  blood  by  day. 
From  the  northeast,  up  the  Yellowstone,  Terry  of 
Fort  Fisher  fame,  the  genial,  the  warm-hearted  general, 
whose  thoughts  are  ever  with  his  officers  and  men,  leads 
his  few  hundred  footmen,  while  Ouster,  whose  division 
has  flashed  through  battery  after  battery,  charge  after 
charge,  in  the  great  Rebellion,  now  rides  at  the  head 
of  a  single  regiment.  From  the  northwest,  down  the 
Yellowstone,  with  but  a  handful  of  tried  soldiery, 
comes  Gibbon  ;  he  who  led  a  corps  at  Gettysburg  and 
Appomattox.  From  the  south,  feeling  his  way  along 
the  eastern  base  of  the  Big  Horn,  with  less  than  two 
thousand  troopers  and  footmen,  marches  the  "Gray 
Fox,"  the  general  under  whom  our  friends  of  the  — th 
so  long  and  so  successfully  battled  with  the  Apaches  of 
Arizona.  He  has  met  his  match  this  time.  Cheyenne, 
Ogallalla,  Brule,  Uncapapa,  Minneconjou,  Sans  Arc, 
and  Blackfoot,  all  swarm  over  the  broad  and  breezy 
uplands  in  his  front,  or  lurk  in  the  deep  shade  of  the 
lovely  valleys.  Twice  have  they  sprung  upon  him  and 
checked  his  advance.  Once  only  has  he  been  forced  to 
hesitate,  but  now,  as  the  longest  days  of  the  year  ap 
proach  and  the  glistening  dome  of  Snow  Peak  is  yet 
warm  with  the  flush  of  the  setting  sun,  when  "  morn, 
in  russet  mantle  clad,"  tinges  the  eastern  slopes  with 
glowing  light ;  now,  at  last,  the  long-dreaded  leaders 
of  the  border  warfare  are  being  hemmed  in  between 
the  encircling  advance.  Now  may  we  look  for  stir- 


HEROINES.  45 

ring  work  along  the  bluffs  and  boulders  of  the  Big 
Horn. 

And  June,  Centennial  June,  has  come  to  West  Point. 
Examinations  are  going  briskly  on,  four  buoyant  classes 
are  all  excitement  with  the  joyous  prospects  of  the  sea 
son  :  the  seniors  look  forward  to  the  speedy  coming  of 
the  longed-for  diploma  and  the  prized  commission,  for 
relief  from  the  restraint  of  academic  life  and  for  the 
broader  field  of  the  army ;  the  second,  the  juniors,  to 
reaching  the  dignity  of  "  first-class  camp,"  with  the 
highest  offices  and  honors  to  be  achieved  so  long  as 
they  shall  wear  the  gray ;  the  third,  ah  !  they  are  the 
furloughmen,  so  soon  to  be  restored  for  two  brief  months 
to  home  and  kindred  after  the  two  years  of  rigid  disci 
pline  and  ceaseless  duty  ;  the  fourth,  to  step  at  once  and 
for  all  from  the  meekness  of  "  plebedoni"  and  become 
the  envied  "  old  cadet."  June  brings  bliss  for  all, — for 
all  but  those  who  fail. 

And  June  brings  joy  to  sisters  and  sweethearts  by 
the  dozen,  to  fond  mammas,  to  proud  paternals,  who 
throng  the  hostel ries  of  the  Point  and  the  neighbor 
hood,  and  swarm  in  lively  interest  all  over  the  historic 
spot,  listening  with  uncomprehending  but  tireless  pa 
tience  to  examinations  on  fortification  or  grand  tactics, 
mechanics  or  calculus ;  gasping  with  excitement  over 
dashing  charges  on  the  "  cavalry  plain,"  shuddering  over 
the  reckless  daring  in  the  riding-hall,  stopping  their  ears 
against  the  thunder  of  the  great  guns  at  the  batteries, 
and  beating  time  with  head  and  foot  to  the  spirited 
quicksteps  of  the  band.  Dress-parade,  the  closing  cer 
emony  of  each  day,  concentrates  the  entire  assemblage 
along  the  shaded  walk  that  borders  on  the  west  the 


46  MARION'S  FAITH. 

beautiful  green  carpet  of  the  "  infantry  plain,"  and,  at 
last,  as  the  four  gray  and  white  companies  go  dancing 
off  in  double-time  through  the  grim  sally-port  beneath 
the  barracks,  and  the  carriages  and  stages  whirl  away 
the  watching  throngs,  and  the  plumed  cadet  officers 
scurry  off  to  supper,  and,  group  after  group,  the  spec 
tators  saunter  homewards,  the  band  disappears  below 
the  crest  of  the  plain  towards  "  Bumtown,"  and  little 
by  little  the  light  turns  to  violet  on  the  wooded  heights 
across  the  swirling  Hudson,  and  silence  settles  down 
upon  the  scene. 

Gazing  out  from  under  the  foliage  of  the  great  elms, 
watching  these  very  changes,  two  ladies  are  seated  upon 
the  piazza  of  the  officers'  quarters  opposite  the  southern 
half  of  the  plain. '  One  is  a  young  matron,  whose  eyes 
once  seen  are  not  soon  forgotten, — so  soft,  so  deep,  so 
brown,  so  truthful  are  they  under  the  long  curling 
lashes,  under  the  low-arched,  heavy  brows.  Beautiful 
eyes  were  they  when,  in  all  their  girlish  fearlessness  and 
innocence,  they  first  beamed  upon  our  old  friends  of  the 
— th  in  the  days  of  exile  in  Arizona,  Lovelier  still  are 
they  now  in  that  consummation  of  a  woman's  happi- 
nesSj — a  worshipped  wifehood.  It  was  early  in  the 
previous  winter  when  Captain  Truscott  brought  his  fair 
bride  to  make  her  home  among  the  scenes  so  dear  to 
both,  and  her  life  has  been  one  song  of  unutterable 
gladness.  If  earth  contained  a  thing  to  wish  for  in 
those  six  months,  Grace  Truscott  could  not  name  it. 
Her  pretty  army  house  is  the  gem  of  the  military  com 
munity,  the  envy  of  many  a  wife.  Her  husband  is  a 
man  whom  all  men  honor  and  hold  in  deep  esteem.  In 
strength,  in  dignity,  in  soldierly  ability,  and  in  his  de- 


HEROINES.  47 

votion  to  her  he  is  all  her  heart  could  ask.  If  she  loved 
him  dearly  when  they  were  married,  her  love  has  de 
veloped  into  almost  an  idolatry, — "  Jack"  is  her  world. 
Not  that  she  talks  or  writes  very  much  of  that  matter, 
however ;  for  quite  a  wise  little  head  is  that  which  is 
perched  on  Mrs.  Truscott's  white  shoulders.  Once  in 
a  while  in  some  letter  to  an  old  and  trusted  friend  she 
finds  it  more  than  she  can  do  to  utterly  repress  her 
overwhelming  sense  of  bliss,  and  then  she  lets  slip  some 
little  confession  of  which  Jack  is  the  subject.  She 
never  dreamed  a  man  could  be  so  lovely,  so  delicate,  so 
thoughtful,  so  considerate,  so  everything  that  was  simply 
perfect,  is  the  way  she  has  once  or  twice  found  herself 
constrained  to  clinch  the  matter  in  default  of  adjectives 
sufficiently  descriptive.  "  Every  day  he  develops  some 
new,  lovely,  and  unsuspected  trait,"  she  once  confided 
to  her  friend  Mrs.  Tanner  (with  whom  she  has  corre 
sponded  quite  regularly  since  her  marriage,  and  to  whom 
we  are  indebted  for  some  of  these  interesting  details), 
and  as  Jack  Truscott  was  confessedly  a  man  of  many 
admirable  qualities  before  his  matrimonial  alliance,  it 
may  be  conjectured  that  ere  the  waning  of  her  honey 
moon  Mrs.  Jack's  enumeration  table  was  beginning  to 
prove  inadequate.  And  bliss  has  been,  and  is,  becom 
ing  to  Grace.  She  has  lost  none  of  the  girlish  delicacy 
of  expression  which  was  so  marked  a  characteristic  of 
her  youthful  beauty  a  year  before,  still  she  has  rounded 
somewhat,  and  both  mentally  and  physically  has  de 
veloped.  The  slender  white  hand  that  rests  upon  the 
volume  of  Carlyle  in  her  lap  looks  less  fragile  than  it  did 
that  day  at  old  Camp  Sandy  when,  in  Tanner's  library 
searching  for  the  children's  books  among  the  shelves, 


48  MARION'S  FAITH. 

it  showed  itself  to  Truscott's  eyes  without  a  certain 
ring.  Mrs.  Jack  does  not  fancy  Carlyle.  He  is  too 
crabbed  by  far,  she  thinks,  and  she  wonders  how  and 
where  people  get  such  distorted  views  of  life,  but  the 
captain  has  been  reading  him  a  great  deal  during  the 
past  two  months,  and  anything  that  interests  him  is  food 
for  her.  Happy  she  is  beyond  all  question,  happy  as 
woman  ever  becomes  in  this  world  where  happiness  is 
never  perfect.  If  it  were,  where  would  be  the  use  of 
heaven  hereafter  ?  And  as  she  sits  here  gazing  out  upon 
the  soft  lights  and  shadows  settling  upon  the  distant 
hills,  her  sweet,  mobile  face  is  fit  subject  for  the  brush 
of  some  inspired  painter  who  seeks  a  model  for  an  ideal 
picture, — "  I  Ask  No  More." 

It  is  twilight,  too,  the  hour  of  all  others  when  the 
faintest  sorrow  is  apt  to  assert  itself  upon  reposeful 
features, — the  hour  when  it  takes  a  very  happy  woman 
to  look  happy ;  yet  Grace  Truscott's  eyes  tell  of  only 
one  story, — love,  peace,  tranquillity ;  and  at  last  the 
silence  is  broken  by  the  remark,  which  is  naturally  the 
result  of  a  woman's  undisturbed  contemplation  of  such 
a  face, — 

"  I  declare,  Grace,  it  is  enough  to  make  one  want  to 
marry  just  to  look  at  you  !" 

Mrs.  Truscott  returns  to  earth  with  sudden  bound, 
dropping  her  blissful  day-dream  with  a  merry  laugh 
and  a  blush  that  refuses  to  down  at  her  bidding.  She 
holds  forth  her  hand  appealingly,  leaning  forward  in 
the  great  wicker  rocking-chair  in  which,  till  now,  she 
has  been  lazily  reclining. 

"  How  absurd,  to  be  sure  !  I  wish  you  would  seize 
me  and  shake  me,  Marion,  whenever  you  see  me  going 


HEROINES.  49 

off  into  dreamland  like  that.  It  is  simply  detestable. 
Yet,  I  can't  help  it.  Oh  !"  with  sudden  impulse,  "  wait 
till  you  marry  some  one  the  least  like  Jack,  and  then 
see  for  yourself." 

"But  I  never  shall  marry  any  one  the  least  like 
Jack,"  replies  Miss  Sanford.  "  To  begin  with,  you 
would  not  be  apt  to  admit  any  such  man  could  exist. 
Now,  don't  bristle  all  over,  Grace ;  you  are  not  in  the 
least  absurd, — to  ordinary  people  that  is;  you  really 
behave  very  creditably  for  so  young  a  wife,  but  you  are 
quite  warranted  in  betraying  your  admiration  to  me. 
I  like  it.  It  was  simply  mean  of  me  to  interrupt  your 
revery  as  I  did,  but  the  exclamation  was  involuntary. 
I  had  been  watching  your  face  for  several  minutes,  and 
thinking  how  few,  how  very  few  women  are  blessed  as 
you  are." 

Mrs.  Truscott's  eyes  filled  with  tears,  and  her  hand 
sought  and  clasped  that  of  her  friend.  A  most  unusual 
caress  for  her. 

"  Sometimes  I  fear  I'm  growing  very  selfish  in  it  all, 
Marion,  and  I  blame  myself  more  than  I  can  tell  you 
when  these  spells  come  over  me.  We  had  planned  to 
make  your  visit  lovely, — Jack  and  I, — and  here,  the 
moment  we  are  alone  together,  I  go  mooning  off  and 
leaving  you  to  be  entertained  by  the  sight  of  my  imbe 
cility."  Mrs.  Truscott  gave  herself  a  vigorous  shake. 
"  There !  Now  tell  me  about  your  walk.  Was  Mr. 
Ferris  pleasant  ?" 

"Pleasant?  Very!  They  all  are  for  that  matter, 
and  I  hate  to  think  how  much  I've  lost  in  being  away 
all  May.  Father  insisted  though,  and  so  those  six 
weeks  had  to  be  spent  at with  them.  It  is  mock- 


50  MARION'S  FAITH. 

ery  to  call  it  home."  And  a  deep  trouble  seemed  to  settle 
on  her  beautiful  face. 

Mrs.  Truscott  leaned  nearer  to  her  friend,  an  eager 
tremor  in  her  voice. 

"  Listen,  Marion  dear,"  she  spoke ;  "  I  cannot  allude 
to  the  subject  except  when  you  do ;  but,  much  as  your 
father  loves  you,  he  must  see  now  that  it  is  next  to  im 
possible  for  you  to  live  at  home,  and  after  her  conduct 
this  spring, —  first  demanding  that  you  should  come  in 
stead  of  spending  May  with  us  as  was  arranged,  and 
then  making  it  so  wretched  for  you,  and  finally  almost 
driving  you  from  the  house, — it  is  useless  to  think  of 
going  back  this  summer.  Do  spend  it  with  us.  We 
both  ask  it,  Jack  and  I.  It  was  such  a  disappointment 
to  lose  you  in  May,  and  now  that  we've  got  you  again, 
— though  you  said  'twas  only  for  a  week, — we  talked 
it  all  over  last  night,  Maid  Marion," — and  here  Mrs. 
Truscott  has  recourse  to  one  of  the  pet  names  of  their 
school-days, — "  we  talked  it  all  over,  Jack  and  I,  and 
that  was  one  of  the  things  he  went  to  the  city  for  to 
day.  He  had  determined  to  ask  your  father  to  let  you 
spend  the  summer  here.  I  want  it  so  much,  so  does 
Jack,  for  he  may  have  to  go  to  Kentucky  to  buy  horses 
for  the  cavalry  stables.  Marion,  do  stay  if  he  will 
let  you."  And  both  Mrs.  Truscott's  white  hands  now 
seized  and  clasped  the  unresisting,  passive  members 
that  lay,  still  gloved,  in  her  companion's  lap. 

For  a  moment  there  was  no  move.  Two  big  tears 
were  starting  from  Miss  Sanford's  eyes ;  her  sweet,  sen 
sitive  lips  were  twitching  nervously.  She  glanced  hur 
riedly  up  and  down  the  broad  road  in  front  of  the 
quarters, — they  were  unobserved  and  alone, — and,  lean- 


HEROINES. 


51 


ing  back  in  her  chair,  she  gently  withdrew  one  hand 
and  held  her  handkerchief  to  her  face.  Mrs.  Truscott 
quickly  rose  and  bent  over  her,  pressed  her  lips  one 
instant  upon  the  luxuriant  hair  that  fell  thickly  over 
the  girl's  forehead ;  then,  twining  her  arm  around  her 
head,  nestled  her  own  sofc  cheek  where  she  had  pressed 
her  lips.  And  there  she  hovered,  saying  nothing  more, 
waiting  until  the  little  rain-cloud  had  passed  away. 

Presently  there  came  the  sound  of  quick,  springy 
footsteps  along  the  asphalt  from  the  direction  of  the 
barracks.  Mrs.  Truscott  raised  her  head. 

"  It  is  Sergeant  Wolf,  Marion.  I  think  he  is  coming 
here." 

Miss  Sanford  started  up,  wiped  her  eyes  and  half 
turned  her  back,  as  a  young  soldier  in  the  undress  uni 
form  of  a  cavalry  sergeant  entered  the  gateway,  and, 
halting  at  the  foot  of  the  steps,  respectfully  raised  hand 
to  his  cap,  and  stood  there  as  though  addressing  an 
officer. 

"  Pardon  me,  madame,"  he  asked,  with  a  distinctly 
German  accent,  but  with  the  intonation  of  a  gentleman 
on  every  syllable.  "  The  captain  has  not  yet  returned  ?" 

"  Not  yet,  sergeant ;  I  expect  him  on  the  eight-thirty 
train." 

"  It  is  about  Corporal  Stein,  madame ;  he  has  over 
stayed  his  pass." 

"  I  presume  Mr.  Waring  should  be  told.  Have  you 
seen  him  ?" 

"  Madame,  the  lieutenant  is  neither  at  his  quartera 
nor  the  mess." 

"  Then  there  is  nothing  further  to  be  done  that  I  know 
of,"  said  Mrs.  Truscott,  whose  girlhood  had  been  passed 


52  MARIONS  FAITH. 

in  garrison  at  times,  and  whose  earliest  recollections 
were  of  papa's  dragoons.  "  I  will  tell  the  captain  as 
soon  as  he  returns."  And  she  stepped  backward  to 
wards  the  chairs. 

The  sergeant  paused  one  moment.  He  was  tall, 
lithe,  of  graceful  and  muscular  mould  ;  his  face  was  of 
the  singular  Saxon  cast, — so  very  fair ;  his  eyes  were 
blue  and  clear,  his  nose  and  mouth  finely  shaped ;  his 
teeth  were  white  and  even,  his  hair  crisp  and  curly, 
and  the  very  color  of  bleached  straw,  but  redeemed 
from  that  dead,  soda-dried  effect  by  the  sheen  of  every 
lock ;  his  face  was  oval ;  clean-shaved  but  for  the  upper 
lip,  whose  long,  blond  moustache  twirled  trooper- 
fashion  till  the  ends  almost  swept  his  ears.  He  was  a 
handsome  fellow,  and  his  manners  and  language  be 
spoke  him  a  man  of  education.  After  the  moment's 
hesitation,  he  again  touched  his  cap  and  quitted  the 
little  garden,  walking  with  quick,  brisk  steps  and  erect 
carriage  away  towards  the  upper  end  of  the  row. 

Mrs.  Truscott  stood  silently  looking  after  him  a 
moment,  then  she  turned  : 

"  Did  you  notice  his  hands,  Marion  ?" 

"  Certainly ;  I  did  the  first  time  I  saw  him,  and  he 
is  always  here.  You  say  Wolf  is  an  assumed  name  ?" 

"  Yes.  Jack  says  there  can  be  no  question  but  that 
he  is  an  educated  German  officer  who  has  had  to  quit 
the  service  there  for  some  crime  or  trouble.  He  came 
here  just  when  I  did,  last  December ;  and  Jack  says  he 
is  the  finest  first  sergeant  he  ever  saw,  though  I  believe 
the  men  don't  fancy  him.  He  speaks  French  as  well 
as  he  does  English,  and  there  is  apparently  nothing  he 
does  not  know  about  cavalry  service." 


HEROINES.  53 

"  And  how  did  he  happen  to  be  in  the  army  ?" 
"  I  do  not  know ;  there  was  nothing  else  for  him  to 
do,  I  suppose.  The  old  first  sergeant  of  the  cavalry 
detachment  here  was  discharged  last  fall,  and  when  a 
new  one  was  needed,  and  there  seemed  to  be  no  really 
good  one  in  the  troop,  Jack  wrote  to  a  recruiting  officer 
in  the  city  to  send  him  a  first-class  man.  One  day  he 
got  a  letter  saying  that  a  young  German  desired  to  en 
list  for  cavalry  service  who  was  evidently  a  thorough 
soldier,  and  that  there  was  some  mystery  about  him. 
He  was  dressed  like  a  gentleman,  but  had  not  a  cent 
of  money,  and  claimed  to  have  arrived  only  within 
three  days  from  the  old  country.  Next  day  the  man 
himself  came  here.  Jack  had  told  me  nothing  about 
the  letter.  The  servant  said  there  was  a  gentleman  in 
the  parlor  wanted  to  see  the  captain.  Jack  was  away 
at  the  riding-hall,  and  I  went  into  the  parlor,  and  there 
stood  this  tall,  fine-looking  fellow.  I  thought,  of 
course,  he  must  be  some  officer  on  leave, — some  one 
whom  Jack  knew.  It  was  a  little  dark, — one  of  those 
rainy  December  days,  and  he  had  his  back  to  the  light, 
— but  the  moment  he  spoke  and  I  heard  the  German 
accent  I  saw  there  was  a  mistake.  He  seemed  greatly 
embarrassed,  said  he  had  been  told  he  would  find  the 
captain  here,  apologized  for  the  intrusion,  and  started 
for  the  door,  when  I  saw  his  face  was  as  white  as  a 
sheet  and  that  he  was  staggering,  and  the  next  thing 
I  knew  he  had  dropped  like  a  fainting  woman  in 
the  big  arm-chair.  Something  told  me  he  was  weak 
from  want  of  food.  I  called  Mary,  and  got  some  wine 
and  made  him  drink  it,  and  pretty  soon  he  revived, 
and  then  Jack  came,  and  I  left  them  together.  He 


54  MARION'S  FAITH. 

said  that  he  had  eaten  nothing  -for  three  days  and  was 
exhausted. 

"  Well,  Jack  questioned  him  closely  that  evening  after 
he  had  made  him  rest  and  had  fed  him  well,  poor  fel 
low  !  and  the  result  was  that  in  a  day  or  two  he  regu 
larly  enlisted.  Jack  really  tried  to  induce  him  not  to, 
telling  him  that  a  man  of  his  education  would  surely 
find  something  better,  but  it  was  useless.  He  said  that 
if  he  could  not  enlist  here  he  would  go  back  to  New 
York  and  enter  for  service  on  the  frontier,  so,  finally, 
it  was  settled.  He  was  made  a  corporal  in  a  few  weeks, 
and  now  he  is  first  sergeant.  He  is  invaluable  in  that 
respect ;  still,  I  do  wish  there  were  no  mystery.  I  hate 
mysteries.  He  is  never  seen  with  the  men  at  aH,  and 
when  not  on  duty  he  is  always  reading.  Jack  lends 
him  books  that  no  other  soldier  cares  to  look  at  and 
that  they  do  not  have  in  the  troop  library.  That  is  what 
brings  him  here  so  often.  He  comes  every  day  or  two 
with  a  book  he  has  read  and  wants  another ;  but  his 
name  isn't  Wolf.  Somewhere,  he  has  a  seal  ring  with  a 
crest  on  it,  and  last  month — there  had  been  some  trouble 
among  the  men,  and  two  hard  characters  had  laid  in  wait 
for  the  sergeant  one  dark  night  near  the  stables  and 
assaulted  him,  but  he  was  too  quick  and  powerful  for 
them,  though  they  escaped — last  month  he  brought  Jack 
a  sealed  packet  which  he  asked  him  to  keep,  and  if  any 
thing  happened  to  him  it  was  to  be  returned  to  an  ad 
dress  he  gave  in  Dresden.  It's  really  quite  a  romance, 

but  I  wish "  And  Mrs.  Truscott  broke  off  abruptly 

without  saying  what  she  did  wish. 

Miss  Sanford  was  silent.  She  had  recovered  her 
Belf-control,  and  the  traces  of  recent  tears  were  vanish- 


HEROINES.  55 

ing.  Once  more  Mrs.  Truscott  seated  herself  by  her 
side. 

"  You  will  stay  with  us,  won't  you  ?"  she  said,  with 
that  uninterrogative  accent  on  the  "won't"  which  is 
indicative  of  a  conviction  on  part  of  the  questioner  that 
denial  is  impossible. 

"Yes,  Grace,  gladly,  if  Captain  Truscott  can  win 
papa  over  to  it.  I  shall  be  far  happier  here,  and  he 
will  at  least  have  peace  at  home.  She  will  be  satisfied 
and  content  if  I  am  not  there.  How  can  I  thank 
you  enough,  Gracie  ?  I  had  almost  made  up  my  mind 
to  ask  Mrs.  Zabriskie  to  take  me  back  to  Europe 
with  her.  You  know  she  returns  on  the  l  Werra'  in 
July.? 

"  Indeed  you  shall  not.  I  had  counted  on  having 
you  for  bridesmaid,  and  you  would  not  come  home. 
That  was  the  only  disappointment  in  my  wedding  ;  but, 
after  all,  since  Mr.  Ray  couldn't  come,  there  would  have 
been  a  groomsman  short  if  you  had  been  there." 

"  Why  didn't  he  come  ?     You  never  told  me." 

"Why?  Poor  Mr.  Ray!  He  wrote  one  of  his 
laughing  letters  to  Jack  to  say  that  he'd  be  switched  if 
he  was  going  to  play  hangman  at  his  own  execution. 
You  never  knew  such  a  queer  fellow  as  he  is.  The  real 
reason  was  that  he  could  not  afford  to  come  East  from 
Kansas  and  give  us  a  wedding  present  too.  Jack  and 
I  would  have  far  rather  had  him  drop  the  present,  but 
could  not  see  how  to  tell  him.  He  sent  us  that  lovely 
ice-cream  set,  you  know, — one  of  the  prettiest  of  all  my 
presents.  Everybody  thought  Ray  must  have  been 
studying  up  on  art,  it  was  so  graceful  and  pretty.  Mr. 
Gleason,  I  believe  it  was,  said  that  Ray  wrote  to  Colo- 


56  MARION'S  FAITH. 

nel  Thayer  of  the  lieutenant-general's  staff  and  had  him 
buy  it :  he  was  in  Chicago  when  we  were  married, — you 
know  that  was  Grandmother  De  Ruyter's  stipulation, — 
and  that  Colonel  Thayer,  not  Ray,  was  entitled  to  the 
credit  for  taste ;  but  Jack  says  that  there  is  far  more  to 
Ray  than  most  people  give  him  credit  for.  He's  a  loyal 
friend  anyway  !" 

"  What  was  the  name  of  that  droll  creature  who  was 
here  last  April,— Drake  ?  Blake  ?" 

"  Mr.  Blake  ?  Oh,  yes  !  He  is  one  of  the  characters 
of  the  regiment.  He  is  the  book  of  nonsense  on  two 
very  long  legs,  but  he  is  full  of  fun  and  full  of  good 
ness.  He  is  not  at  all  Mr.  Ray's  kind,  however.  Jack 
says  that  Mr.  Ray  is  the  man  of  all  others  whom  he 
would  most  expect  to  come  to  the  front  in  a  general  war, 
and  that  nothing  could  shake  his  faith  in  him.  Ray 
could  never  do  or  say  a  dishonorable  thing." 

"  And  wasn't  it  Mr.  Ray  who  saved  you  when  your 
horse  was  running  away  ?" 

"  The  very  man.  You  glory  so  in  daring  horseman 
ship,  Marion,  I  just  wish  you  could  see  Ray  ride. 
Jack  is  splendid,  of  course,  but  he  is  so  much  larger, 
heavier,  you  know.  Ray  rides  as  lightly  as  a  bird  flies ; 
he  seems  just  part  of  a  horse,  as  indeed  Jack  does,  but 
then  there's  this  difference  :  Mr.  Ray  rides  over  hurdles 
and  ditches  and  prairie-dog  holes  and  up  and  down 
hill  just  like  an  Indian,  and  the  wonder  is  he  isn't 
killed.  Jack  is  a  fine  horseman, — nobody  looks  better 
in  the  saddle  than  he, — but  then  Jack  rarely  rides  at  top 
speed, — never,  unless  there's  some  reason  for  it. 

"  See,  Marion,  it's  almost  dark.  Shall  we  go  in  the 
parlor  and  light  the  lamps  ?" 


HEROINES.  57 

"  Grace,  wasn't  Mr.  Ray  just  a  little  bit  in  love  with 
you  once?" 

"  Honestly,  Marion,  no  !  I  know  he  admired  me, 
and  I  liked  him,  and  had  reason  to  like  him  greatly, 
for  he  was  a  true  friend  to  me  when  I  wanted  one  at 
Sandy.  Once  he  was  a  wee  bit  sentimental,"  and  even 
in  the  dusk  Grace  could  feel  that  Marion  saw  the  flush 
that  mounted  to  her  very  brows,  "  but  that  was  when  I 
fainted  after  the  runaway ;  never  before,  never  since. 
Don't  talk  nonsense,  Maidie." 

"  I  think  I  should  like  to  know  him,"  said  Miss 
Sanford,  as  she  rose  to  enter  the  hall. 

"  I  know  you  would.  Only — well,  you  might  not 
like  him  entirely,  either.  Jack  should  be  here  in  less 
than  half  an  hour  now,  then  we'll  have  tea.  Oh, 
Marion  !  I'm  so  glad  you  will  stay,  so  will  he  be." 

On  the  parlor-table,  as  they  entered,  lay  two  letters. 
Turning  up  the  gas,  Mrs.  Truscott  scanned  the  super 
scriptions.  Both  were  addressed  to  her  husband.  One 
was  postmarked  Fort  Hays. 

"  This  is  the  one  Jack  will  open  first,"  she  said  to 
her  friend.  "  I  don't  know  whom  the  other  comes 
from,  but  this  is  news  from  the  regiment.  It  is  Mr. 
Billings's  writing,  and  Jack  is  always  eager  for  news 
from  him." 

"  Mr.  Ferris  asked  me  this  evening,  while  we  wer<i 
walking,  if  Captain  Truscott  had  any  news  from  his 
regiment.  He  seemed  unusually  interested.  I  could 
not  tell  why,  but  it  was  something  about  General  Crook 
being  heavily  reinforced  by  troops  from  somewhere. 
They  were  talking  of  it  down  at  the  mess  to-day,  and 
Mr.  Waring  said  that  if  his  regiment  were  ordered  on 


"5  SLLRIOyS  FAITH. 

that  duty,  he  wonld  apply  by  telegraph  to  Washington 
for  orders  to  join  it  at  once.  There  was  some  embar 
rassment  then,  because  one  of  the  gentlemen  present — 
Mr.  Ferris  wouldn't  say  who — belonged  to  a  regiment 
already  there  on  that  very  campaign,  and  he  had  not 

applied  for  orders  at  all,  and  wasn't  going  to,  and 

Why,  Grace!  What  is  the  matte 

With  her  ihce  rapidly  paling  Grace  Truscott  had 
stood  gating  piteously  at  her  companion,  and  then, 
seizing  the  letter  in  her  trembling  hand-  od 

glaring  at  the  address.  For  a  moment  she  made  no 
reply,  and  again  Miss  Sanford,  alarmed,  repeated  her 
question. 

"  Marion  !  Marion !  It  means  that  I  know  now 
why  Jack  did  not  show  me  Major  Stannard's  last 
letter.  It  means  that  this  letter  from  the  adjutant  is 
to  tell  Jack  that  the  — th  is  ordered  into  the  field.  It 
means — it  means" — and  she  threw  herself  prone  upon 
the  sofa,  clinching  her  hands  above  her  head — "  it  means 
that  my  dream  of  delight  is  shattered  ;  they  will  take 
my  husband  from  me." 

"But  how — but  why,  Grace?  I  don't  understand. 
Mr.  Ferris  said  distinctly  that  Captain  Truscott  would 
not  be  affected,  that  he  had  just  begun  his  detail  here. 
If  an  officer  doesn't  hace  to  go  when  his  regiment  is 
already  in  the  field,  how  can  your  husband  be  re- 
quir- 

"My  husband  !  Marion.  You  don't  know  him, 
neither  does  Mr.  Ferris,  if  that's  his  idea.  My  hus 
band  would  never  wait  to  be  ordered  to  join  his  com 
rades  on  campaign.  If  that  letter  say-  the  — th  is  to 
go,  that  ends  it  all,  for  Jack  will  start  to-morrow." 


IMPENDING   SHADOWS.  59 


CHAPTER    IV. 


SHADOWS. 

Captain  Truscott  drove  up  from  the  ferry 
and  sprang  from  the  carriage  at  his  gate,  a  cheerful 
light  beamed  from  the  open  door  and  windows  of  his 
home,  and  Grace,  all  loving  greeting,  met  him  on  the 
piazza.  He  could  not  but  note  the  warmth  of  her  em 
brace  and  welcome  ;  but  Jack  had  been  in  town  since 
early  morning,  and  never  before  since  their  marriage 
had  they  been  separated  a  single  day.  In  the  dim  twi 
light  on  the  piazza  he  could  not  see  what  was  apparent  as 
soon  as  they  entered  the  parlor,  —  that  his  young  wife's 
face  was  unusually  pale  and  her  lovely  eyes  showed 
suspicious  trace  of  tears  ;  but  he  could  only  glance  an 
anxious  inquiry,  there  was  then  no  rime  for  more,  as 
Miss  Sanford  stood  smilingly  at  the  centre-table, 

Tru-          -  :  rward   with    his    old-fashioned 

courtesy  and  bowed  over  her  extended  hand. 
words  of  pleasant  welcome  and  greeting  were  exchanged, 
a  few  inquiries  as  to  whom  he  had  seen  in  New  York 
and  what  had  been  the  result  of  his  various  commis 
sions.  Then  as  the  dining-room  door  was  opened  and 
the  maid  announced  that  tea  was  served,  Truscott  looked 
inquiringly  at  the  table. 

•  Any  mail,  Oracle?" 

•  Oh,  yes,  Jack.     I  pot  them  under  Carlyle;  two 


60  MARION'S  FAITH. 

The  captain  merely  glanced  at  the  superscription  of 
the  first  letter,  but  when  the  second  caught  his  eye,  he 
shot  one  quick  look  at  his  wife,  their  eyes  met,  and 
leaving  the  first  letter  upon  the  table,  he  stowed  the 
heavier  missive  in  the  breast-pocket  of  the  civilian  suit 
he  was  wearing,  led  the  way  to  the  dining-room  door, 
and  there  smilingly  bowed  the  ladies  to  the  brightly- 
lighted  table,  and  demanded  of  Miss  Sanford  an  imme 
diate  and  detailed  account  of  the  day's  conquests. 

Not  until  near  midnight  could  Grace  see  her  husband 
alone. 

It  was  "band  night,"  and  long  before  they  had 
finished  tea  rich  strains  of  music  came  floating  in  from 
the  parade,  and,  as  is  always  the  case,  visitors  began  to 
arrive.  Several  ladies  and  officers  dropped  in  during 
the  evening ;  they  sat  on  the  piazza  enjoying  the  sere 
nade  until  the  shrill  piping  of  the  fifes  and  rattle  of  the 
drums  sounding  tattoo  sent  the  musicians  off  to  bed 
and  numerous  pairs  of  white  trousers  scurrying  towards 
the  cadet  barracks.  They  watched  the  simultaneous 
"  dousing  of  the  glim"  in  the  long  facade  as  the  clock 
struck  ten  and  the  three  taps  of  the  drum  ordered 
"  lights  out."  Then  they  entered  the  parlor  and  Grace 
had  to  sing.  For  the  last  year  she  had  gloried  in  sing 
ing,  her  voice  seemed  so  rich  with  melody,  her  heart  so 
rich  with  joy.  To-night  all  the  strange  old  feeling 
came  back.  It  made  her  think  of  those  wretched  days 
at  Sandy,  when  with  Jack  thousands  of  miles  away, 
perhaps  never  to  see  or  speak  to  her  again,  she  had  to 
sing  because  her  father  loved  it  so.  She  was  a  soldier's 
daughter,  a  soldier's  wife,  and  she  rallied  all  her  strength 
and  pride  and  strove  to  be  blithe  and  animated  and 


IMPENDING  SHADOWS.  61 

entertaining.  From  her  first  appearance  Mrs.  Truscott 
had  been  a  favorite  in  that  somewhat  exacting  garrison, 
perhaps  the  hardest  one  in  the  army  in  which  to  achieve 
popularity,  because  of  the  various  cliques  and  interests  ; 
and  now  that  that  very  interesting  Miss  Sanford  was 
with  her,  their  pretty  home  on  the  plain  was  always  a 
rendezvous  for  the  socially  disposed.  And  so  it  hap 
pened  that  all  the  long  evening  neither  she  nor  Jack 
could  obtain  release  from  their  duties  as  entertainers. 
Eleven  o'clock  came  before  the  last  of  the  ladies  de 
parted,  and  then  Mr.  Ferris  lingered  for  a  t£te-d,-tete 
with  Miss  Sanford,  and  poor  Grace  found  herself  com 
pelled  to  sit  and  talk  with  Mr.  Barnard,  who  was  a 
musical  devotee  arid  afflicted  with  a  conviction  that  they 
ought  to  sing  duets,  and  Mrs.  Truscott  could  not  be  in 
duced  to  sing  duets  with  any  man,  unless  Jack  would 
try. 

She  knew  that  he  had  gone  to  the  little  library  where 
he  kept  his  favorite  books  and  did  his  writing.  She 
heard  the  door  close  after  him,  and,  with  unutterable 
longing,  she  desired  to  go  and  throw  herself  upon  her 
favorite  perch,  his  knee,  and  twine  her  arms  around  his 
neck  and  bury  her  head  upon  his  broad  shoulder.  She 
could  think  of  nothing  but  that  fateful  letter  from 
Hays.  She  wished  that  it  might  be  Mr.  Waring  who 
had  come  in,  for  he  was  in  the  cavalry  and  would  know 
something  of  what  really  was  going  on  out  on  the  fron 
tier.  She  was  feverishly  anxious  to  learn  the  truth,  and 
twice  directed  the  talk  that  way,  but  Mr.  Barnard  was 
obtuse.  He  only  vaguely  knew  from  remarks  he  had 
heard  at  mess  that  General  Crook  had  called  for  rein 
forcements,  and  that  Sheridan  was  ordering  up  cavalry 

6 


62  MARION'S  FAITH. 

and  infantry  to  his  support.     He  did  not  know  what 
cavalry, — in  fact,  he  did  not  care, — he  was  in  the  artil 
lery,  and,  forgetful  of  Modoc  experiences,  believed  that 
Indian  fighting  was  an  abnormal  species  of  warfare  of 
which  men  of  his  advanced  education  were  not  expected 
to  take  cognizance.     That  it  ever  could  call  for  more 
science,  skill,  and  pluck  than  the  so-called  civilized  wars 
of  which  Mr.  Barnard  was  a  conscientious  student  he 
would  probably  never  have  admitted,  and  his  comment 
at  mess  on  the  frequently-recurring  tales  of  unsuccessful 
attack  upon  savage  foes  was  the  comprehensive  remark 
that  the  affair  must  have  been  badly  handled  ;  "  those 
fellows  of  the  cavalry  didn't  seem  to  understand  the 
nature  of  the  work  they  had  to  tackle."      As  those 
were  the  days  before  a  cavalry  superintendent  went  to 
the  Academy  and  showed  an  astonished  academic  board 
what  a  cavalryman's  idea  of  scholarship  and  discipline 
really  was,  it  followed  that  the  corps  of  instructors  was 
made  up  almost  entirely  from  the  more  scientific  arms ; 
only  two  or  three  cavalrymen  were  on  the  detail  of  forty 
officers,  and  they  were  mainly  for  duty  as  instructors  in 
tactics  and  horsemanship.    So  when  Mr.  Barnard  dream 
ily  blew  the  smoke  of  his  cigarette  through  his  elevated 
nostrils  and  gave  it  as  his  opinion  that  those  cavalry 
fellows  didn't  seem  to  understand  their  work,  his  audi 
ence,  consisting  mainly  of  staff  and  artillery  officers, 
gave  the  acquiescence  of  silence  or  the  nod  of  wisdom  ; 
and  the  casual  visitor  would  have  left  with  the  impres 
sion  that  the  whole  mistake  of  this  Indian  business  lay 
in  failure  to  consult  the  brilliantly-trained  intellects  of 
the  higher  corps.     Odd  as  it  may  seem,  it  is  the  men 
who  have  had  the  least  to  do  with  Indians  and  Indian 


IMPENDING   SHADOWS.  g3 

fighting  who  have  apparently  the  most  ideas  on  the  sub 
ject.  This  is  not  a  paradox.  Those  who  have  spent 
several  years  at  it  probably  started  in  with  just  as  many, 
and  exploded  them  one  after  another. 

Mr.  Barnard,  therefore,  was  more  intent  on  humming 
the  tenor  part  of  "  See  the  Pale  Moon"  than  of  afford 
ing  Mrs.  Truscott  any  information  as  to  rumors  of  the 
orders  sending  additional  troops  to  the  field,  but  her 
anxiety  was  only  slightly  appeased  by  his  airy  dismissal 
of  the  subject. 

"  Indeed,  Mrs.  Truscott,  I  would  not  feel  any  concern 
in  the  matter;  with  the  forces  now  concentrated  up 
there  in  the  Yellowstone  country,  the  result  is  a  fore 
gone  conclusion.  The  Indians  will  simply  be  sur 
rounded  and  starved  into  surrender/' 

At  last  they  went.  Mr.  Ferris  with  evident  reluc 
tance  and  not  until  he  had  plainly  received  intimation 
from  Miss  Sanford  that  it  was  more  than  time. 
Knowing  Mrs.  Truscott  well,  she  could  see  what  was 
imperceptible  to  their  visitors,  that  the  strain  was  be 
coming  almost  unbearable.  The  moment  they  were 
gone  she  turned  to  her  friend. 

"  I  must  write  a  short  letter  before  going  to  bed, 
Grace  dear.  Now  go  to  him  at  once;"  then  impul 
sively  she  threw  her  arms  around  her.  "  I  shall  pray 
it  is  not  true,"  she  murmured,  then  turned  and  ran 
quickly  to  her  room. 

Mrs.  Truscott  closed  and  bolted  the  front  door, 
turned  out  the  parlor  lights,  and  stepped  quickly  to 
the  library ;  then  she  paused  a  moment  before  turning 
the  knob :  her  heart  was  beating  heavily,  her  hands 
trembling.  She  strove  hard  to  control  the  weakness 


04  MARION'S  FAITH. 

which  had  seized  her,  and,  for  support,  rested  her  head 
upon  the  casement  and  took  two  or  three  long  breaths ; 
then  with  a  murmured  prayer  for  strength  she  gently 
opened  the  door,  and  the  soft  swish  of  her  trailing  skirts 
announced  her  presence. 

His  back  was  towards  her  as  she  entered  ;  he  was 
seated .  in  a  low-backed  library-chaij,  with  both  elbows 
upon  the  writing-table  before  him,  and  resting  his  head 
upon  the  left  hand  in  an  attitude  that  was  habitual 
with  him  when  seated  there  thinking.  Before  him, 
opened,  lay  a  long  letter, — the  adjutant's  letter  from 
Hays.  A  pen  was  in  his  hand,  but  not  a  scratch  had 
he  made  on  the  virgin  surface  of  the  paper.  Truscott 
never  so  much  as  wrote  the  date  until  he  had  fully 
made  up  his  mind  what  the  entire  letter  should  be,  and 
he  had  far  from  made  up  his  mind  what  to  say  in  this. 

Without  a  word  Mrs.  Truscott  stole  quietly  up  be 
hind  him.  He  had  been  expecting  her  any  moment ; 
he  knew  well  she  would  come  the  instant  her  visitors 
left  her  free;  he  was  listening,  waiting  for  her  step, 
and  had  heard  Miss  Sanford  trip  lightly  up-stairs. 
Then  came  the  soft,  quick  pitapat  of  her  tiny  feet 
along  the  hall  and  the  frou-frou  of  the  skirts, — never 
yet  could  he  hear  it  without  a  little  thrill  of  passionate 
delight.  He  half  turned  in  readiness  to  welcome  her, 
his  love,  his  wife ;  then  came  her  pause  at  the  door, — a 
new,  an  unknown  hesitancy,  for  from  the  first  he  had 
taught  her  that  she  alone  could  never  be  unwelcome, 
undesired,  no  matter  what  his  occupation  in  the  sanctum, 
and  Jack's  heart  stood  still  while  hers  was  throbbing 
heavily.  Could  she  have  heard?  Could  she  have 
suspected?  Must  he  tell  her  to-night?  He  turned 


IMPENDING  SHADOWS.  65 

again  to  the  desk  as  she  entered,  and  waited  for — some 
thing  he  loved  more  than  he  could  ever  tell, — her  own 
greeting. 

Often  when  he  was  reading  or  writing  during  the 
day,  and  she,  on  household  cares  intent,  was  tripping 
lightly  about  the  house,  singing  sweetly,  softly  as  she 
passed  the  library,  and  bursting  into  carolling  melody 
when  at  undisturbing  distance  away,  it  was  odd  to  note 
the  many  little  items  that  required  her  frequent  incur 
sions  on  the  sanctum  itself, — books  to  be  straightened 
and  dusted,  scraps  of  writing-paper  to  be  tidied  up, 
maps  to  be  rolled  and  tied.  Mollie,  the  housemaid,  could 
sweep  or  tend  the  fires  in  that  domestic  centre,  the  cap 
tain's  den,  but  none  but  the  young  housewife  herself 
presumed  to  touch  a  pen  or  dust  a  tome.  Jack's  morn 
ings  were  mainly  taken  up  at  the  barracks,  riding-hall, 
or  in  mounted  drill  far  out  on  the  cavalry  plain,  whence 
his  ringing  baritone  voice  could  reach  her  admiring  ears 
and — for  it  was  only  honeymoon  with  her  still — set  her 
to  wondering  if  it  really  were  possible  that  that  splen 
did  fellow  were  her  own,  her  very  own ;  and  time  and 
again  Mrs.  Grace  would  find  herself  stopping  short  in 
her  avocation  and  going  to  the  front  windows  and  gaz 
ing  with  all  her  lovely  brown  eyes  over  to  the  whirling 
dust-cloud  on  the  eastern  plain  and  revelling  in  the 
power  and  ring  of  Jack's  commanding  voice,  and  going 
oif  into  day-dreams.  Was  it  possible  that  there  had 
been  a  great,  a  fearful  war,  in  which  the  whole  country 
was  threatened  with  ruin,  and  hundreds  of  men  had 
made  wonderful  names  for  themselves,  and  Jack  not  one 
of  them, — Jack,  her  hero,  her  soldier  beyond  compare? 
Could  it  be  that  the  war  was  fought  and  won  without 
e  6* 


66  MARIONS  FAITH. 

him  ?     But  then,  who  could  be  braver  in  action,  wiser 
in  council,  than  he  ?    Did  not  the  — th  worship  him  to 
a  man?      Was  not  Indian  fighting  the  most  trying, 
hazardous,  terrible  of  all  warfares,  and  was  not  Jack 
pre-eminent  as  an  Indian-fighter?     Was  there  not  a 
deep  scar  on  his  breast  that  would  have  been  deeper  and 
redder  but  for  her  little  filmy  handkerchief  that  stopped 
the  cruel  arrow  just  in  time?     Was  any  one  so  gallant, 
so  noble,  so  gentle,  so  tender,  true,  faithful, — um-m-m, — 
sweet?  was  the  way  Mrs.  Grace's  intensified  thoughts 
would  have  found  expression,  had  she  dared,  even  to 
herself,  to  give  them  utterance  ?     And  he  loved  her  ! 
he  loved  her  !  and — heavens  and  earth  !  but  this  isn't 
practising,   or   housework   either;  and  pretty,  happy, 
blushing  Mrs.  Truscott  would  shake  herself  together, 
so  to  speak,  and  try  to  get  back  to  the  programme  of 
daily  duty  she  had  so  conscientiously  mapped  out  for 
herself.     Perhaps  it  was  because  she  accomplished  so 
little  in  the  mornings  that,  when  Jack  betook  himself 
to  his  study  for  his  two  hours  of  reading  or  writing  in 
the. afternoon,  his  witching  wife  would  find  such  frequent 
need  of  entering.     At  first  she  had  been  accustomed  to 
trip  in  on  tiptoe  after  a  timid  little  knock  and  the  query, 
"  Do  I  disturb  you,  Jack  dear  ?" — a  query  which  he 
answered  with  quite  superfluous  assurance  to  the  con 
trary.    Later,  even  after  their  wise  conclusion  that  they 
must  be  rational,  she  had  been  accustomed  to  put  the 
question,  not  at  all   as  a  purely  perfunctory  marital 
civility,  but,  as  she  shyly  admitted  to  herself,  because 
it  was  so  sweet  to  hear  Jack's  negation  and  see  the  love- 
light  in  the  eyes  that  soon  brought  her,  fascinated  and 
fluttering,  to  be  folded  in  his  arms  a  moment.     Later 


IMPENDING  SHADOWS.  67 

still,  so  confident  had  she  become  in  her  dominion,  both 
knock  and  query  were  abandoned,  and,  unless  only  five 
minutes  or  so  had  elapsed  since  the  previous  visit,  she 
had  a  pretty  little  way  of  greeting  him  that,  though 
very  gradually  acquired  despite  surging  impulse,  was 
at  last  quite  a  settled  fact,  and  he  loved  it, — well,  he 
would  have  been  an  unappreciative,  undeserving  brute 
had  he  not.  She  would  steal  behind  him,  lean  over  the 
back  of  the  chair  (Jack  refused  to  exchange  it  for  the 
high-backed  one  suggested  by  Mrs.  Pelham  on  the  oc 
casion  of  a  brief  visit  paid  them  in  March),  and,  twin 
ing  her  arms  around  his  neck,  would  draw  back  his  head 
till  it  rested  on  her  bosom,  then  sink  her  soft,  sweet  lips 
upon  his  forehead.  It  was  this  he  waited  for  to-night, 
and  not  in  vain. 

Another  minute  and  he  had  drawn  her  around  and 
seated  her  on  his  knee,  folding  her  closely  in  his  arms. 
But  soon  she  gently  released  herself,  slipped  to  the 
little  ottoman  that  stood  always  ready  by  his  chair,  and, 
clasping  her  hands  upon  his  knee,  looked  bravely  up 
in  his  face.  No  need  to  speak  one  word, — no  need  to 
break  it  to  her ;  he  saw  she  well  divined  that  news,  and 
hard  news,  had  come  from  the  frontier, — news  which 
meant  more  to  her  than  to  any  woman  at  West  Point. 

"  Shall  I  read  it,  Gracie  ?"  he  presently  asked,  gently 
stroking  the  shining,  shimmering  wealth  of  her  hair, — 
her  glory  and  his.  She  bowed  lower  her  head  and 
clasped  tightly  her  hands. 

"  One  word  first,  Jack.     Does  the  — th  go  ?" 

"Yes,  darling." 

She  shivered  as  though  a  sudden  chill  had  seized 
her,  but  spoke  no  word.  Truscott  bent  and  strove  to 


68  MARION'S  FAITH. 

draw  her  again  to  his  breast,  but  she  roused  herself 
with  gallant  effort, — threw  back  her  head  and  again 
looked  bravely  up  in  his  eyes. 

"No;  I'll  bear  it  best  here,  Jack.  I  won't • 

Read  it,  dear." 

"My  brave  girlie !"  was  all  he  said,  as  his  eyes 
moistened  suspiciously  and  his  hand  lingered  in  its 
caress  upon  her  soft  cheek. 

"  It's  from  Billings,  you  know." 

"  Yes,  Jack ;  go  on." 

And  then  he  read  to  her : 

"Four  HAYS,  KANSAS,  June  6,  '76. 
"DEAR  TRUSCOTT, — Stannard  showed  me  your 
letter  and  bade  me  answer  it.  There  was  no  time 
for  him  to  do  it,  and  I  myself  am  writing  '  on  the 
jump.'  You  sized  up  the  situation  about  as  com 
prehensively  as  Crook  himself  could  have  done  it, 
and  your  predictions  have  come  true.  Eight  troops 
of  the  regiment  left  night  before  last  by  rail  for 
Cheyenne  via  Denver,  and  by  this  time  headquarters 
and  most  of  the  — th  are  tenting  somewhere  near 
Fort  Russell,  where  we  are  all  to  take  station  and 
wait  further  developments.  The  band  follows  as  fast 
as  we  can  pack  up  plunder  and  be  oif.  It  means, 
of  course,  a  permanent  transfer  of  the  regiment  to 
the  Department  of  the  Platte,  and  from  the  mere 
fact  that  the  colonel  and  eight  companies  were  hurried 
ahead,  there  can  be  no  question  but  that  we  are  des 
tined  to  take  part  in  the  campaign  against  Sitting 
Bull,  Crazy  Horse,  etc.,  and  for  myself,  I'm  glad 
of  it. 


IMPENDING   SHADOWS.  69 

"  But  I'm  glad  you  weren't  here,  Jack.  There  was 
weeping  and  wailing  and  gnashing  of  teeth  among  the 
women-folks,  and  some  two  or  three  Benedicts  looked 
bluer  than  brimstone.  You  know  they  had  counted 
on  a  peaceful  summer  and  a  good  time,  and  it's  par 
ticularly  rough  on  those  who  had  fitted  up  their 
quarters  so  handsomely  and  had  young  ladies  to  visit 
them,  like  the  Raymonds  and  others.  Most  of  them 
have  to  break  up  and  go  East,  but  as  six  troops  are 
to  take  permanent  station  at  Russell,  yours  among 
them,  those  who  are  ordered  there  will  simply  move 
from  Hays  to  Russell  with  us,  as  the  officers  can  choose 
quarters  on  the  way  up  ;  for  up  we  are  going,  and  I'll 
bet  a  farm  we  water  our  horses  in  the  Yellowstone 
before  we  see  Russell  a  second  time.  As  soon,  as  packed 
I  shall  move  all  baggage  to  Russell,  public  and  per 
sonal,  escort  the  ladies  thither  and  see  them  comfortably 
settled  in  their  new  quarters.  Mrs.  Stannard,  Mrs. 
Turner,  and  Mrs.  Wilkins  (of  course)  go  to  Russell 
with  us.  Old  Whaling  of  the  Infantry  is  to  remain 
in  command  there  until  the  campaign  is  over,  as  it 
will  be  the  main  supply  depot.  His  wife  is  an  enliven 
ing  Christian,  a  sort  of  Mrs.  Gummidge  and  Mrs. 
Malaprop  rolled  into  one,  but,  barring  a  sensational 
tendency  and  a  love  for  theatricals  in  every-day  life, 
there  is  nothing  dangerous  about  her.  I'm  glad  my 
own  wife  will  be  able  to  remain  with  the  home  people, 
for  Mrs.  Whaling  would  scare  the  life  out  of  her  with 
her  tales  of  fearful  adventure  in  the  Indian  country, 
and  I  don't  quite  like  the  idea  of  our  ladies  being 
subjected  to  her  ministrations  during  the  separation. 
However,  Mrs.  Stannard  will  be  there,  and  she's  a 


70  MARION'S  FAITH. 

balance-wheel.     Bless  that  woman !     What  would  we 
do  without  her  ? 

"Now,  Jack,  a  word  from  Stannard  himself.  He 
said  to  write  you  fully,  that  nothing  might  be  concealed. 
Stryker's  letter  is  straight  to  the  point.  It  is  going  to  be 
the  biggest  Indian  war  the  country  has  ever  seen,  and 
one  in  which  there  must  be  hard  fighting.  Armed, 
equipped,  and  supplied  and  mounted  as  those  Sioux 
and  Cheyennes  are,  it  will  take  our  best  to  thrash 
them.  Stannard  says  that  you  must  be  influenced 
in  your  action  by  no  misrepresentation  one  way  or 
other.  No  man  in  the  regiment  can  say  in  his  presence 
or  mine  that  you  have  not  done  your  full  share  of  In 
dian  work,  and  no  gentleman  in  the  regiment  will 
blame  you  should  you  see  fit  to  stick  to  the  Point  and 
let  the  rest  of  us  tackle  Mr.  Lo.  You  are  the  only 
newly-married  man  in  the  crowd.  On  the  other  hand, 
your  troop  is  commanded  in  your  absence  by  Gleason, 
whom — well,  you  know  him  better  than  I ;  and  in  his 
absence  by  young  Wells,  who  is  to  take  his  first  lesson 
in  campaigning  this  summer.  Just  as  luck  would  have 
it,  Gleason  and  Ray  were  ordered  to  Leavenworth  on  a 
horse  board,  and  were  not  here  to  go  with  the  command. 
Ray  heard  of  the  move  and  telegraphed,  begging  Stan- 
nard  to  get  him  relieved  and  sent  at  once  to  the  regi 
ment,  but  the  board  was  ordered  at  division  head 
quarters  and  'twas  no  use.  Ray  will  have  to  stay 
until  the  horses  are  all  bought ;  and  I'm  bound  to  say 
he  did  his  best  to  get  back.  For  some  reason,  which  I 
could  better  explain  if  I  didn't  have  to  write,  Ray  and 
I  don't  seem  to  '  gee.'  He  has  been  offish  to  me  ever 
since  our  first  meeting  here,  and  was  one  of  the  men 


IMPENDING  SHADOWS.  71 

whose  failure  to  congratulate  me  on  the  adjutancy  I 
felt.  Then  I  heard  of  some  unjustifiable  though,  per 
haps,  natural  things  he  said.  However,  let  that  slide. 
I  wish  you  were  adjutant  again,  that's  all.  Very  prob 
ably  the  others  do  too.  The  colonel  telegraphed  to  all 
officers  on  leave,  and  every  blessed  one  responded  inside 
of  twenty-four  hours,  '  Coming  first  train,  you  bet/  or 
words  to  that  effect.  It  makes  one  proud  of  the  old 
— th.  Gleason  hasn't  chirped,  but  then  he  is  some 
where  in  central  Iowa  buying.  They  say  Ray's 
brother-in-law  is  one  of  the  largest  horse-dealers,  and 
Stannard  clamps  his  mug  and  looks  ugly  when  it  is 
spoken  of.  He  knows  something  about  him,  and  was 
a  good  deal  stampeded  when  he  heard  Ray  was  being 
wined  and  dined  by  him  at  Kansas  City.  But,  be  it 
understood,  I  don't  think  Ray  has  any  suspicion  of 
Stannard's  objection  to  the  man.  And  now,  Jack,  I'll 
wind  up  this  rigmarole.  It  is  long  after  taps,  and  the 
men  are  still  at  work  packing.  I've  been  interrupted 
time  and  again,  and  this  is  all  incoherency.  If  you 
decide  to  join,  let  it  not  be  said  for  an  instant  that  the 
faintest  urging  came  from  us.  Address  your  next  to 
Russell.  The  colonel  forbade  my  telegraphing  you  lest 
it  might  sound  like  a  hint.  My  compliments  to  Mrs. 
Truscott,  and  tell  her  I  saw  her  old  friend  Ranger  off 
for  the  wars  two  nights  ago ;  likewise  that  young  imp 
of  the  devil, — the  Kid.  Tanner's  old  troop  isn't  what 
it  was  in  his  day. 

"  Yours  always  faithfully, 

"  BILLINGS." 

Long  before  he  had  finished  reading  she  had  bowed 


72  MARION'S  FAITH. 

her  head  upon  her  hands,  but  there  came  no  sound. 
At  last  he  laid  the  letter  down,  and  then  bent  over  her. 

"  Grace,— darling  !" 

Slowly  she  lifted  her  eyes  and  looked  up  in  his  face. 
All  the  light,  all  the  joy  and  gladness  had  fled.  Her 
lips  moved  as  though  to  question,  but  a  hard,  dry  lump 
seemed  to  have  formed  in  her  throat;  she  could  not 
speak.  His  strong  hands  trembled  as  they  gently 
raised  her  from  the  lowly  attitude  in  which  she  had 
been  crouching  at  his  knee.  He  would  have  drawn 
her  to  his  breast  again,  but  she  put  her  little  hands 
upon  his  shoulder  and  held  herself  back.  Twice  she 
essayed  to  speak  before  the  words  came, — 

"Jack,  God  knows  I  have  tried  to  be  ready  for 
this.  But  is  there  no  way  ?  I  never  thought  to  stand 
between  you  and  your  duty — your  honor.  I  would 
not — I  would  not  now  if  I  were — all.  Oh,  Jack, — my 
husband,  there — there  is  another  reason." 


CHAPTER  Y. 

MARION   SANFORD. 

As  a  school-girl  Marion  Sanford  started  by  being  un 
popular.  On  first  acquaintance  there  were  very  few  girls 
in  Madame  Reichard's  excellent  establishment  who  did 
not  decide  that  she  was  cold  and  unsympathetic.  Cour 
teous,  well-bred,  self-possessed,  she  was  to  a  fault,  but — 
unpardonable  sin  in  school-girl  eyes — she  shrank  from 
those  dear  and  delicious  intimacies,  those  mushroom 


MARION  SANFORD.  73 

friendships  of  our  tender  years,  that  are  as  explosive  as 
fire-crackers  and  as  evanescent  as  the  smoke  thereof. 
The  volumes  of  satire  that  have  been  written  on  the 
subject  have  exhausted  the.  field  and  rendered  new  ideas 
out  of  the  question,  but  they  have  in  no  wise  dimin 
ished  the  impetuosity  with  which  such  friendships  are 
daily,  hourly  entered  into,  and  they  never  will.  Ours  is 
a  tale  which  has  little  that  is  new  and  less  that  is  di 
dactic.  Army  life  and  army  loves  differ,  after  all,  but 
little  from  those  which  one  sees  in  every  community. 
Human  nature  is  the  same  the  world  over,  despite  our 
different  tenets  and  traditions.  Boys  are  as  full  of  mis 
chief  and  sure  to  get  into  scrapes  as  in  the  days  of  Eli 
jah  and  the  bears.  Girls  have  had  their  sweet  secrets 
and  desperate  intimacies  with  one  another  since  long 
before  Elijah  was  heard  of.  Nothing  one  can  say  is 
apt  to  put  a  stop  to  what  the  Almighty  set  in  motion. 
Let  us  not  rail  at  what  we  cannot  correct,  but  make  the 
best  of  it.  Let  us  accept  the  truth.  School-girls  meet, 
take  desperate  and  sudden  fancies,  swear  eternal  friend 
ships,  have  eternal  tiffs  and  squabbles,  kiss  and  make 
up,  fall  out  again,  and  as  they  grow  in  grace  and  wis 
dom  they  keep  up  the  system,  simply  taking  a  new  ob 
ject  every  few  months.  It  is  one  of  their  weaknesses 
by  divine  right,  over  which  common  sense  has  no  more 
control  than  it  has  over  most  of  ours. 

But  Marion  Sanford  had  no  such  weakness.  Being 
destitute  of  the  longing  for  intimate  and  confidential 
intercourse  with  some  equally  romantic  sister,  she  was 
spared  the  concomitant  heartburnings,  recriminations, 
and  enmities.  She  passed  her  first  year  at  the  school 
without  an  intimate  friend.  She  left  it  without  an 
D  7 


74  MARION'S  FAITH. 

enemy.  Hers  was  not  the  most  brilliant  mind  in  the 
class.  She  was  not  the  valedictorian  of  the  school  on 
that  eventful  day  when, 

"  Sweet  girl-graduates  with  their  shining  hair," 

they  listened  in  tears  and  white  muslin  to  Madame's 
parting  injunctions ;  but  her  last  two  years  at  the  old 
pension  had  been  very  precious  to  her.  Grace  Pelham 
was  her  room-mate,  and  Grace  Pelham's  loving  arms 
had  opened  to  her  when,  motherless  and  heart-broken, 
Marion  Sanford  had  returned  from  the  second  year's 
summer  vacation.  Between  the  two  girls  there  had 
gradually  grown  a  deep  and  faithful  friendship,  born 
of  mutual  respect  and  esteem.  It  would  be  saying  too 
much  to  assert  that  at  first  there  had  been  no  differences. 
Four  years  at  one  school  give  opportunities  which  are 
illimitable,  but  the  present  writer  knew  neither  of  them 
in  the  bread-and-butter  period,  and  was  properly  re 
proved  by  the  one  and  snubbed  by  the  other  when,  in 
the  supposed  superiority  of  his  years  and  co-extensive 
views  on  the  frangibility  of  feminine  friendship,  he  had 
sought  to  raise  the  veil  of  the  past  and  peer  into  the 
archives  of  those  school-days.  Partly  from  school 
mates  and  partly  from  observation  the  author  formed 
his  opinion  of  what  Marion  Sanford  had  been  as  an 
undergraduate.  What  she  became  the  candid  reader 
must  judge  for  — self. 

For  a  woman  she  was  reticent  to  a  marked  degree  in 
discussing  the  faults  and  foibles  of  others.  She  was 
slow  to  anger,  loath  to  believe  ill  of  a  man  or  woman, 
truth-loving,  sincere,  and  simple-hearted.  She  had  not 


MARION  SANFORD.  75 

been  the  most  studious  girl  at  school.  Deep  down  in 
her  heart  of  hearts  she  had  a  vein  of  romance  that  made 
the  heroes  of  fiction  the  idols  of  a  vivid  imagination. 
Wilfrid  of  Ivanhoe,  Sir  Galahad,  Launcelot,  William 
Wallace,  Bayard,  Philip  Sidney,  were  men  whom  she 
fondly  believed  to  have  existed  in  other  shapes  and  names 
time  and  again,  and  yet  she  was  staggered  in  her  faith 
because  the  annals  of  our  matter-of-fact  days  told  no  such 
tales  as  those  she  loved  of  knighthood  and  chivalry. 
Once — once  she  had  found  a  modern  hero.  Heaven 
only  knows  to  what  a  wild  worship  would  not  that  brief 
dream  have  expanded  had  she  not  seen  him.  He  was 
the  elder  brother  of  one  of  her  friends  at  school, — a  navy 
officer, — a  man  who  when  his  ship  was  cut  down  by  a 
blundering  Briton,  and  sent  to  the  bottom  with  over  a 
hundred  gallant  hearts  high-beating  because  "  home 
ward  bound,"  he,  the  young  ensign,  gave  his  whole 
strength,  his  last  conscious  minute  to  getting  the  help 
less  into  the  lowered  boats,  and  was  the  last  man  in  the 
"  sick-bay"  before  the  stricken  ship  took  her  final  plunge, 
carrying  him  into  the  vortex  with  a  fevered  boy  in  his 
strong  young  arms.  Both  were  unconscious  when  hauled 
into  safety,  and  that  ensign,  said  Marion,  was  the  man 
she  would  marry.  She  was  less  than  sixteen  and  had 
never  seen  him.  The  nearest  approach  to  a  desperate 
intimacy  she  ever  had  was  with  that  fellow's  sister :  a 
girl  of  hitherto  faint  attractions.  At  last  the  ensign 
came  to  the  school, — such  a  day  of  excitement ! — and  as 
a  great,  a  very  great  concession,  Madame  had  permitted 
that  he  should  be  allowed  in  her  presence  to  speak  with 
his  sister's  most  intimate  friends.  She  was  threatened 
with  popularity  for  the  time  being,  and  Marion  was  pro 


76  MAJtION'S  FAITH. 

sented.  The  hero  of  her  four  months'  dream  was  a 
stoutly-built  youth  of  twenty-five,  with  florid  complex 
ion  and  hair,  and  a  manner  so  painfully  shy  and  em 
barrassed  that  additional  color  was  lent  to  his  sun- 
blistered  features.  He  had  faced  death  without  a  tremor 
and,  in  the  most  matter-of-fact  way  in  the  world,  had 
saved  three  lives  at  the  imminent  risk  of  his  own,  but 
he  could  not  face  these  wide-eyed,  worshipping  school 
girls,  and  was  manifestly  ill  at  ease  in  a  very  unbecom 
ing  civilian  suit.  Still,  he  wriggled  through  the  inter 
view  and  made  his  escape,  leaving  only  a  modified 
sensation  behind.  The  fatal  coup  occurred  next  day 
when,  as  prearranged,  he  came  to  say  farewell.  This 
time  Jack  Tar  had  braced  for  the  occasion,  and  was 
unexpectedly  hilarious  and  demonstrative.  In  bidding 
good-by  to  his  sister  he  had  effusively  embraced  her, 
then  turned  suddenly  upon  Marion,  and  before  she  could 
dream  of  what  was  coming,  had  caught  her  in  his  arms 
and  imprinted  upon  her  fresh  young  lips  a  bacchanalian 
salute  that  left  thereon  a  mingled  essence  of  Angostura 
bitters,  cloves,  and  tobacco,  and  drove  her  in  dismay 
and  confusion  from  the  room  to  seek  her  own  in  a  pas 
sion  of  angry  tears  and  disenchantment.  Never  before 
in  her  life  had  she  known  such  an  affront.  Never  for 
long  afterwards  did  she  worship  modern  heroes. 

But  while  she  sought  no  intimacies,  as  a  school-girl  her 
friendship  and  affection  for  Grace  Pelham  strengthened 
with  every  week  of  their  association.  Their  last  two  years 
at  school  were  spent  as  room-mates,  and  then  Marion 
had  gone  almost  immediately  abroad.  Some  hint  has 
been  conveyed  to  the  reader  of  a  domestic  unpleasantness 
in  the  Sanford  homestead.  Sanford  paterfamilias  was  a 


MARION  SANFORD.  77 

successful  business  man  of  large  means  and  small  sen 
sibilities.  His  first  wife,  Marion's  mother,  was  a  New 
York  beauty,  a  sweet,  sensitive,  refined,  and  delicate 
girl ;  in  fine,  "  a  sacrifice  at  the  altar  of  Mammon." 
She  married  Mr.  Sanford  when  she  was  eighteen  and 
he  thirty-eight,  and  she  married  him  because  the  family 
necessities  were  such  that  she  could  not  help  herself. 
Marion  was  their  first  child,  the  darling  of  a  young 
mother's  heart,  and  later,  the  pride  of  a  fond  father's. 
Yet,  before  that  daughter  was  eighteen  she  was  called 
upon  to  welcome  in  the  place  of  her  idolized  mother — 
who  had  died  after  some  years  of  patient  suffering — 
the  children's  governess.  It  marred  all  joys  of  gradu 
ation,  so  far  as  Miss  Sanford  was  concerned.  She  had 
gone  home  in  obedience  to  her  conviction  of  filial  duty, 
and  had  striven  to  make  her  little  sister  and  her  brother 
believe  that  the  new  mamma  was  all  that  she  should  be. 
She  had  been  conscientiously  earnest  in  her  effort  to 
like  in  her  new  r6le  the  ex-governess,  whom  she  had 
found  it  impossible  to  believe  in  before.  The  effort 
was  a  failure,  due  quite  as  much  to  the  jealous  and 
suspicious  nature  of  the  lady  of  the  house  as  to  Miss 
Sanford's  unconquerable  prejudice.  Pretences  for  rup 
ture  were  easily  found ;  the  rupture  came ;  Mrs.  San 
ford  did  all  the  talking,  Miss  Sanford  said  nothing. 
When  her  father  came  home  from  the  city  he  found 
his  new  wife  in  tears  and  his  daughter  fled.  The 
Frenchman  who  wrots  les  absents  ont  toujours  tort  was 
undoubtedly  thinking  of  the  field  as  left  in  possession 
of  a  woman,  and  that  Mrs.  Sanford's  recital  of  the 
trouble  was  a  finished  calumny  at  Marion's  expense  we 
are  spared  the  necessity  of  asserting.  In  her  few  words 


78  MARION'S  FAITH. 

written  to  her  father  that  day.  Miss  Sanford  simply 
said  that  she  was  going  to  pay  a  brief  visit  to  the 
Zabriskies ;  but  in  less  than  a  fortnight,  with  his  full 
consent  and  a  liberal  allowance,  she  went  with  them 
abroad.  That  his  experiences  in  his  new  marital  rela 
tions  were  not  blissful  we  may  conjecture  from  the  fact 
that  he  soon  found  reason  to  believe  that  he  couldn't 
believe  Mrs.  Sanford.  Unbelief  grew  to  conviction 
and  developed  into  profound  distrust.  Still,  as  she  not 
infrequently  had  to  remind  him,  she  was  his  lawfully 
wedded  wife,  and  held  the  fort.  He  aged  rapidly,  and 
his  struggles  for  the  mastery  were  futile.  She  was 
young,  active,  healthy,  and  wise  as  the  serpent.  He 
mourned  for  his  absent  daughter,  and  when,  yielding  to 
her  own  yearnings,  she  returned  to  America  in  the 
spring  of  the  Centennial  year,  he  sent  for  her  to  come 
to  him.  She  went,  and  remained  as'long  as  she  could, 
but  in  leaving,  she  told  him,  with  eyes  that  filled  and 
lips  that  quivered  but  never  shrank,  that  it  was  her 
last  visit  so  long  as  her  step-mother  remained  beneath 
the  roof,  and  he  broke  down  and  sobbed  like  a  little 
child,  but  sought  not  to  dissuade  her. 

"  Her  mother's  fortune,"  said  the  Mrs.  Grundys  of 
Fort  Hays,  was  now  her  own ;  but  her  mother  had  no 
fortune,  and  if  she  had,  it  would  have  been  shared  by 
the  two  other  children.  In  the  old  days  her  father  had 
laughingly  bought  and  set  aside  for  Marion's  own  ac 
count  some  government  bonds  and  some  railway  stocks ; 
the  latter  at  time  of  purchase  being  practically  drugs 
on  the  market.  In  fifteen  years  they  were  at  a  heavy 
premium.  When  it  came  to  parting,  he  had  placed 
these  bonds  with  all  their  undipped  coupons  to  her 


MARION  SANFORD.  79 

credit  at  his  banker's,  and  she  was  mistress  of  a  little 
fortune  it  seemed  to  her,  which,  added  to  the  liberal 
allowance  he  insisted  on  keeping  up,  gave  her  far  more 
than  she  could  ever  spend  on  herself  even  were  her 
Bastes  extravagant. 

She  dressed  richly ;  she  would  have  nothing  that  was 
not  of  the  best,  but  she  was  never  wasteful.  It  had 
been  her  habit  to  keep  accurate  account  of  her  expendi 
ture,  and  to  send  her  father  a  quarterly  balance-sheet 
that  was  a  delight  to  his  pragmatical  eyes.  He  would 
have  doubled  her  allowance  her  last  two  years  at  school, 
but  she  would  not  agree  to  it.  She  was  in  deep  mourn 
ing  and  in  sore  distress,  and  money  was  the  one  thing 
she  had  no  use  for.  All  the  same  he  paid  it  to  her  ac 
count,  as  he  termed  it,  and  in  due  time  the  money  be 
came  her  own.  She  had  loved  him  dearly  despite  his 
rough  exterior  and  what  she  thought  his  lack  of  ap 
preciation  of  her  gentle  mother.  But  when  he  married 
the  governess  before  that  second  winter's  snow  had 
mantled  the  hallowed  grave,  her  soul  rebelled  in  indig 
nation  .and  dismay.  For  a  year  her  heart  had  held  out 
against  him,  and  softened  only  when  she  saw  that  he 
was  breaking  under  the  self-imposed  burden, — a  shrew 
ish  second  wife.  However,  Mrs.  Sanford  "held  the 
fort,"  as  has  been  said,  and  Marion,  high-spirited,  sen  - 
sitive,  refined,  and  loving,  was  entering  on  her  twentieth 
year — without  a  home. 

Was  she  pretty  ?  Yes.  More  than  pretty,  said  those 
who  knew  her  best.  She  was  simply  lovely.  But  alas 
for  those  to  whom  disappointment  is  sure  to  come,  she 
was  a  decided  blonde. 

A  fairer,  lovelier,  whiter  skin  than  Marion  Sanford's 


80  MARION'S  FAITH. 

was  rarely  seen ;  her  complexion  was  wellnigh  fault 
less,  her  eyes  were  large,  clear,  full  of  thought  and 
truth  and  expression,  and  in  tint  a  deep,  deep  blue, 
shaded,  like  Grace  Truscott's,  with  curling  lashes,  not 
so  long,  but  thick  and  sweeping ;  her  hair  was  too  dark, 
perhaps,  for  the  purity  of  her  blond  complexion.  It 
was  a  shining,  wavy  brown,  very  soft,  thick,  and  lux 
uriant.  She  would  be  far  more  striking,  said  her 
commentators,  had  she  real  blond  hair,  but  those  who 
grew  to  know  her  well  soon  lost  sight  of  the  defect. 
Her  mouth  was  a  trifle  large,  but  her  teeth  were  perfect, 
and  the  lips  so  soft,  so  sweetly  curved,  that  one  readily 
forgave  the  deviation  from  the  strict  rule  of  facial 
unity  when  watching  her  frequent  smiles.  In  stature 
she  was  perhaps  below,  as  Grace  was  above,  the  medium 
height  of  womanhood,  but  her  figure  was  exquisite. 
Her  neck  and  arms  were  a  soft  and  creamy  white, 
and  the  perfection  of  roundness  and  grace.  "  She  must 
lace  fearfully,"  was  the  invariable  comment  of  the 
sisterhood  on  first  acquaintance.  In  truth,  she  did  not 
lace  at  all.  It  was  a  fault  beyond  her  control,  but  her 
waist  was  perhaps  too  small.  Her  hands  and  feet  were 
not  like  Grace's,  long  and  slender.  They  wero  tiny, 
but  her  hand  was  plump  and  white  and  might  be  com 
pressible.  It  was  undeniably  pretty,  and  her  foot  was 
always  so  stylishly  shod  that  its  shape  was  outlined 
most  attractively. 

But  what  would  have  made  Marion  Sanford  at 
tractive  had  she  been  simply  plain  instead  of  pretty, 
was  her  manner.  Cold  and  unsympathetic  had  been 
the  original  school-girl  verdict  pronounced  because 
of  her  distaste  for  imparting  confidonces.  This  was 


MARION  SANFORD.  81 

amended  in  her  second  year,  abandoned  in  her  third, 
and  would  have  been  attacked,  if  asserted,  in  her 
fourth.  Over  no  girl's  departure  was  there  such 
frantic  lamentation  among  the  younger  scholars  as 
over  Marion's.  They  had  learned  to  love  her.  To 
all  who  were  her  elders  there  was  gentle  deference, 
to  her  equals  and  associates  a  frank  and  cordial  bearing 
without  degeneration  into  "  confidences."  To  younger 
girls  and  to  children  Marion  Sanford  was  an  angel, 
the  sweetest,  the  gentlest,  the  kindest,  the  most  winning 
girl  that  lived.  No  matter  who  was  with  her,  no 
matter  what  her  occupation,  for  them  she  had  ever 
smiles  and  sunshiny  greeting.  It  was  to  her  the 
younger  girls  soon  learned  to  go  in  homesickness  or 
troubles,  sure  of  welcome  to  her  arms  and  comfort 
in  her  sympathy ;  it  was  to  her  that  the  wee  toddlers 
were  never  afraid  to  run  for  "  sweeties,"  or  refuge  from 
pursuing  nurse-maids;  it  was  to  her  that  girls  of 
younger  sets,  accustomed  to  being  snubbed  and  put 
down  by  those  two  years  older,  would  yield  the  out 
spoken  homage  of  loyal  subjects.  She  was  Queen 
Marion  to  the  youngsters  of  the  school,  brave,  wise, 
and,  oh !  so  generous ;  while  to  the  chosen  few  in 
the  class,  who  knew  something  of  her  love  for  the 
heroic,  she  was  Maid  Marion,  but  only  "Maidie"  to 
one,  her  loyal  and  faithful  ally,  Grace. 

She  was  still  abroad  in  the  fall  of  '75  when  that 
quiet  wedding  took  place  which  she  was  vainly  im 
plored  to  attend  as  first  bridesmaid.  Three  years  had 
elapsed  since  her  mother's  death,  but  her  heart  was 
still  in  mourning.  But  early  in  the  spring  of  the 
Centennial  year,  after  a  stormy  passage,  she  was  safely 


82  MARION'S  FAITH. 

restored  to  her  own  land,  and  the  evening  after  the 
arrival  of  their  party  Captain  and  Mrs.  Truscott  were 
dining  with  them  at  the  Clarendon.  There  had  been 
a  brief,  a  very  brief  call  from  her  father  and  step 
mother,  and  then  she  accepted  Grace's  invitation  to 
come  to  them  at  the  Point.  A  slight  illness  of  Mr. 
Sanford's  made  it  necessary  to  abandon  the  visit  at  the 
time,  as  she  was  telegraphed  for  before  she  had  been 
forty-eight  hours  at  the  Point.  The  month  that  fol 
lowed  settled  the  question  as  to  future  relations  with 
Mrs.  Sanford.  She  would  meet  her  father  whenever 
or  wherever  he  wanted  except  under  that  roof;  on 
that  point  she  was  adamant,  and  he  neither  could  nor 
did  blame  her.  And  so  it  resulted  that  she  was  once 
more  with  Grace  and  the  "Admirable  Crichton,"  as 
she  had  been  accustomed  to  allude  to  him  in  her  letters 
for  the  past  year ;  and  up  to  the  moment  of  his  return 
from  the  city  he  was  the  only  hero 'who  had  appeared 
to  her  eyes  in  that  manufacturing  centre  where  the 
article  is  supposed  to  be  turned  out  at  the  rate  of  fifty 
a  year.  It  never  had  occurred  to  her  that  men  so 
particular  about  the  cut  of  their  uniform  trousers, 
the  set  of  a  "  blouse,"  or  the  nice  adjustment  of  the 
hair  could  by  any  possibility  develop  heroic  qualities, 
and  yet  Captain  Truscott  always  looked  as  though  he 
had  stepped  out  of  a  band-box. 

It  was  late  when  she  went  to  her  room  this  lovely 
night  in  June.  It  was  true  that  she  had  one  or  two 
letters  to  write,  but  they  were  very  brief.  She  longed 
to  have  Grace  come  to  her  and  tell  her  the  result  of  her 
interview  with  Jack,  and  she  longed  to  know  what  that 
letter  would  say.  Never  for  an  instant  had  it  occurred 


MARION  SAN  FORD.  83 

to  her  that  at  a  moment's  notice  a  home  could  be  aban 
doned,  a  young  wife  left  to  mourn,  a  delightful  station 
left  to  anybody  who  wanted  the  place,  and  all  as  an 
every-day  incident  of  army  life.  That  such  things 
could  be  expected  and  demanded  in  the  midst  of  a 
mortal  struggle  for  national  honor  was  another  mat 
ter  entirely, — something  to  be  encountered  once  in  a 
lifetime,  and  something  to  be  cherished  in  family  tra 
dition  as  grand,  patriotic,  heroic,  and  worthy  of  keeping 
in  remembrance  from  generation  to  generation  ;  but  that 
to  do  all  this  merely  as  a  piece  of  duty  because  one's 
particular  regiment  happened  to  be  setting  forth  on 
probably  hazardous  service,  but  of  a  trivial  nature  as 
compared  with  the  interests  involved  in  the  only  war 
she  heard  much  talked  of,  why,  she  never  dreamed 
of  such  a  possibility,  and  her  ideas  were  no  more  vague 
than  are  those  of  the  general  public  on  precisely  the 
same  subject. 

Twelve  o'clock  struck  from  the  great  bell  over  at  the 
tower,  and  still  Grace  and  her  husband  remained  below. 
It  was  time — high  time  to  go  to  bed,  said  Miss  Sanford, 
though  still  perplexed,  anxious,  and  distressed.  Grace 
would  surely  come  to  her  as  soon  as  matters  were  de 
cided.  She  stepped  to  her  window  to  take  a  good-night 
look  at  the  moonlit  plain.  Drawing  aside  the  curtain, 
she  peered  through  the  blinds.  Standing  in  silence  at 
the  front  gate,  leaning  on  the  iron  fence  and  gazing 
fixedly  in  the  direction  of  the  library  window  which 
opened  toward  the  north,  there  appeared  the  figure  of  a 
man.  A  moment  he  stood  there  motionless,  attentive. 
Then,  without  a  sound,  he  swung  back  the  gate,  and 
quickly  and  almost  on  tiptoo,  it  seemed  to  her,  stepped 


84  MARION'S  FAITH. 

up  the  walk,  passed  through  a  broad,  moonlit  space, 
and  was  as  quickly  lost  to  sight  and  hearing  around  the 
corner  of  the  house.  She  recognized  the  form  and 
bearing  at  a  glance.  The  man  was  Sergeant  AYolf. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

AT  THE   FRONT. 

RARE  indeed  is  a  day  in  June  !  Warmth  and  frag 
rance,  sunshine  and  roses,  strawberries,  straw  hats, 
summer  costumes,  music  and  moonlight,  soft  zephyrs, 
softer  speeches,  softest  of  swains  have  we  left  at  the 
Point.  Farewells — sweet,  sad,  sentimental  some  of 
them — have  been  said.  The  corps  of  cadets  has  gone 
to  the  Centennial  with  thousands  of  sight-seers  from  all 
over  the  nation.  They  hardly  had  dared  hope  for  such 
an  unaccustomed  delight.  They  had  not  expected  to 
go,  but  went.  The  nation  flocks  to  Philadelphia,  but 
out  in  the  Northwest  some  hundreds  of  its  defenders  are 
flocking  in  another  direction.  Come  with  us  and  take 
another  look  at  our  old  friends  of  the  — th.  They  had 
expected  to  go,  but  didn't. 

It  is  a  rare,  rare  day  in  June,  but  where  are  the  soft 
breezes,  the  sweet  fragrance,  the  blossoms  and  the  bliss 
of  that  month  of  months  at  the  dear  old  Point  ?  Rare 
indeed  is  the  breeze,  cloudless  the  sky,  brilliant,  beam 
ing,  magnificent,  the  sunshine,  but  not  a  leaf  stirs  in 
answering  rustle  to  the  wind.  Far  and  near  nc  patch 


AT  THE  FRONT.  85 

of  shade  delights  or  tempts  the  eye.  Look  where  you 
will, — look  for  miles  and  miles  over  boundless  expanse 
of  rolling  upland,  of  ridge  and  ravine,  of  dip  and 
"divide/'  of  butte  and  swale,  no  speck  of  foliage,  no 
vision  is  there  of  even  isolated  tree.  The  solid  earth 
beneath  our  feet  is  carpeted  with  dense  little  bunches 
of  buffalo-grass,  juicy,  life-giving,  yet  bleaching  already 
of  the  faint  hues  of  green  that  came  peeping  through 
the  last  snows  left  in  May.  Tiny  wild  flowers  purple 
the  surface  near  us,  but  blend  into  the  colorless  effect 
of  the  general  distance.  We  stand  on  a  wave  of  petri 
fied  ocean,  tumbling  in  wild  upheaval  close  at  hand ; 
stretching  away  to  the  east  in  a  league-long  level  flat  as 
the  barn  floor  of  tradition,  and  bare  as  the  description. 
Far  to  the  east  the  prairie  rolls  up  to  the  horizon 
wave  after  wave  till  none  is  seen  beyond.  Far  to  the 
north,  bare  and  treeless,  too,  the  same  effect  is  main 
tained.  Far  to  the  south,  across  an  intervening  low 
land  one  would  call  a  valley  elsewhere,  the  ground 
rises  against  the  sky,  until  its  monotonous  gray-green 
meets  the  gray-blue  of  the  southern  heaven ;  but  west 
of  south,  what  have  we  here?  The  farthest  wave  of 
prairie  surges,  not  against  the  naked  sky,  but  against 
a  cold  gray  range,  whose  peaks  and  turrets  are  seamed 
and  sprinkled  with  glistening  snow.  Aye,  there  they 
stand,  the  monarchs  of  the  Rockies ;  there  through  the 
short  summer  sunshine  their  lofty  crests  defy  the  melting 
rays  and  bear  their  plumage  through  the  very  dog-days, 
to  greet  and  welcome  the  first,  faint,  timid  snow-flakes 
of  the  early  fall.  There  they  gleam  and  glisten,  no 
longer  as  we  saw  them  from  the  Kansas  plains,  dim 
in  the  western  distance,  unapproachable,  but  close  at 

8 


86  MARION'S  FAITH. 

hand,  neighborly,  sheltering,  for  we  nestle  under  their 
very  shoulders.  Here,  to  the  west,  just  behind  us,  no 
great  day's  walk  away  and  seemingly  far  nearer,  in 
jagged  outline  against  the  blue  of  heaven,  are  the 
guardians  of  the  old  transcontinental  pass.  Here,  to 
the  west,  where  you  see  the  rugged  spurs  jutting  out 
from  the  range,  runs  the  old  trail  which  the  engineers 
have  followed,  and  carried  the  Union  Pacific  to  its 
greatest  altitude  between  the  oceans.  Far  out  there 
among  the  buttes  runs  that  climbing  ridge,  yet  it  seems 
so  close,  so  neighborly  with  the  foreshortening  of  that 
strange  scenery,  that  one  cannot  realize  that  in  its  climb 
it  carries  the  iron  rails  still  two  thousand  feet  farther 
aloft.  For  years  we  have  read  of  the  Rockies,  and  is 
this  possible?  Do  you  mean  that  here,  with  this  ex 
panse  of  level  prairie  before  us,  we  are  up  among  the 
clouds,  so  to  speak, — far  up  on  the  very  backbone  of  the 
continent,  and  that  is  why,  instead  of  towering  thou 
sands  of  feet  aloft  in  air,  the  great  peaks — Long's  and 
Halm's  and  Pike's— seem  so  near  us  to  the  south'ard 
and  no  higher  at  all?  Aye,  call  it  prairie  level  if 
you  will,  for  straight  to  the  east  it  looks  as  flat  as  Illi 
nois,  but  we  are  standing  six  thousand  feet  higher  in  air 
than  the  highest  steeple  in  Chicago,  and  our  prairie  flat 
is  but  the  long,  long  slope  of  mountain-side  that  begins 
in  the  Black  Hills  of  Wyoming — back  at  Cheyenne 
Pass — and  ends  at  the  forks  of  the  Platte  down  near 
Tulesburg. 

You  say  it  must  be  up-hill  to  that  ridge  that  meets 
the  horizon  at  the  east.  Is  it  ?  Look  over  here  to  our 
left  front,  a  little  to  the  northeast.  See  that  tiny  lake 
surrounded  by  low,  wooden  buildings,  and  approached 


AT  THE   FRONT.  87 

by  the  hard,  beaten  road  from  the  distant  town.  A 
pleasure  resort  of  some  kind,  judging  from  the 
streamers  and  bright  flags  about  the  place.  It  stands 
on  a  hill,  does  it  not?  and  the  hill  has  risen  gradually 
from  the  west,  but  slopes  abruptly  again  to  the  east  and 
south  to  the  general  level.  Did  you  ever  see  a  lake  on 
a  hill  before  ?  How  does  the  water  get  there  ?  Springs  ? 
No.  Mark  that  slender  rivulet  that  runs  from  far  up 
the  ravine  at  the  southwest ;  it  crosses  the  prairie  in  the 
near  distance,  and  then  goes  twisting  and  turning  up 
that  apparent  slope  until  it  reaches  the  little  lake  on  the 
hill.  The  outlet,  you  say?  Yes.  From  here  it  cer 
tainly  looks  so,  but  step  forward  a  few  hundred  feet 
and  look  at  the  rivulet,  and  by  all  that's  marvellous ! 
the  water  is  running  up-hill. 

So  it  certainly  seems,  but  the  explanation  is  simple. 
The  prairie  is  not  horizontal  by  any  means.  It  is  a 
gradual  but  decided  slope  to  the  east,  and  the  top  of  the 
little  hill  two  miles  away  is  forty  feet  lower  than  the 
point  on  which  you  stand. 

Then  how  deceptive  is  the  distance  !  Across  the 
level  to  the  southeast  lies  the  bustling  frontier  city. 
You  wonder  to  see  glistening  dome  and  spire  far  out 
there  under  the  very  shadow  of  the  Rockies.  At  least 
you  would  have  wondered  a  decade  ago  in  the  Centen 
nial  year.  You  note  the  transparency  of  the  atmos 
phere.  Science  has  told  you  that  at  such  an  altitude  the 
air  is  rarefied.  There  is  no  light  haze  to  soften  outlines 
and  to  lend  enchantment  to  a  distant  view.  Roof,  spire, 
chimney,  all  stand  out  clear  and  hard,  and  the  coal- 
smoke  from  the  railway  blots  the  landscape  where  it 
rises,  yet  is  quickly  scattered  by  the  mountain  breeze. 


88  MARION'S  FAITH. 

Between  you  and  the  little  town  lies  the  prairie  over 
which  the  stage  road  runs  straight  and  hard  as  a  pike 
until,  nearing  us,  it  begins  to  twist  and  turn  among  the 
foot-hills  for  a  climb  across  the  ridge  into  the  valley  of 
Lodge  Pole  Creek  beyond.  Lodge  Pole  indeed  !  The 
creek  valley  has  not  a  stick  of  timber  far  as  one  can 
see  it.  Follow  it  to  its  source,  two  days'  trot  or  tramp 
up  towards  Cheyenne  Pass,  and  there  you  find  them, 
as  the  Sioux  did  twenty  years  ago,  before  we  bade  them 
seek  their  lodge-poles  farther  north.  How  far  is  it  to 
the  prairie  metropolis, — a  mile  and  a  half,  you  venture? 
My  friend,  were  you  an  artillerist,  and  were  you  to 
sight  a  two-hundred-pounder  to  throw  a  shell  into 
Cheyenne  from  where  we  stand,  "setting  your  sights 
for  three  thousand  yards,'7 — more  than  your  mile  and  a 
half, — the  shell  would  rip  up  the  prairie  turf  somewhere 
down  there  where  you  see  the  road  crossing  that  acequia. 
Cheyenne  lies  a  good  four  miles  away,  and  is  a  good 
deal  bigger  than  you  take  it  to  be.  But  here  to  the 
south  lies  a  strange  diamond-shaped  enclosure, — a 
queer  arrangement  of  ugly  brown  wooden  barns  and 
sheds  far  out  all  by  itself  on  the  bare  bosom  of  the 
prairie.  That  is  called  a  frontier  fort.  It  is  not  a  fort. 
It  never  has  been.  Even  tradition  cannot  be  summoned 
to  warrant  the  name.  It  was  built  after  our  great  civil 
war,  and  named  for  one  of  the  gallant  generals  who  fell 
fighting  in  the  Shenandoah  Valley.  It  has  neither 
stockade  nor  simplest  defensive  work.  It  is  all  it  can 
do  to  stand  up  against  a  "  Cheyenife  zephyr,"  and  a  shot 
fired  at  one  end  of  it  would  go  clean  through  to  the 
other  without  meeting  anything  sufficiently  solid  to  de 
flect  it  from  its  course.  It  is  a  fort  by  courtesy,  as  some 


AT  THE  FRONT.  89 

of  our  non-conbatants  are  generals  by  brevet,  and  would 
be  as  valuable  in  time  of  defensive  need.  All  around 
it,  east,  west,  and  north,  sweeps  the  level  prairie.  South 
of  its  unenclosed  limits  there  flows  a  rapid-running 
stream,  down  in  whose  barren  valley  are  placed  the 
long  unsightly  wooden  stables,  the  big  square  corrals 
for  quartermaster's  stock,  the  huge  stacks  of  hay  and 
straw,  and  vast  piles  of  cord-wood.  Farther  east  along 
this  tortuous  stream,  and  on  its  left  bank,  too,  midway 
between  fort  and  city,  is  another  big  brown  enclosure, 
in  which  are  dozens  of  sheds  and  storehouses.  It  is  a 
great  supply  depot  for  quartermaster's  stores  and  ord 
nance,  and  over  it,  as  over  the  fort,  flutters  the  little 
patch  of  color  which  stamps  the  property  as  Uncle 
Sam's.  For  reasons  that  can  soon  be  explained  only 
small-sized  flags  are  ever  hoisted  near  Cheyenne.  By 
noon  of  three  hundred  days  a  year,  straight  from  the 
wild  pass  to  the  west,  there  comes  sweeping  down  a  gale 
that  would  snap  the  stoutest  flag-staff  into  flinders,  and 
that  whips  even  a  storm-flag  threadbare  in  a  few  brief 
weeks. 

But  it  is  a  rare  June  morning  now,  too  early  for  the 
"zephyr,"  and  nature  beams  and  sparkles  even  over 
such  bare  landscape.  The  air  is  crisp,  cool,  invigor 
ating.  Far  out  on  the  slopes  and  side  hills  great  herds 
of  horses  and  mules  are  grazing,  guarded  by  vigilant 
troopers,  some  alert  in  saddle,  others  prone  upon  the 
turf.  Out  along  the  road  from  town  comes  a  train  of 
white-covered  wagons  slowly  crawling  northward,  with 
stores  and  supplies  for  the  army  up  in  the  Indian  coun 
try,  and  down  here  to  our  right  front,  covering  the  flat 
between  fort  and  depot,  blocked  out  in  regular  rows  and 

8* 


9()  MARION'S  FAITH. 

groups,  dotting  the  plain  with  gleaming  canvas,  is  the 
camp  of  the  — th  regiment  of  cavalry.  For  the  first  time 
since  the  war  of  the  rebellion  two-thirds  of  its  entire 
strength  is  massed  under  command  of  its  senior  officer. 
Morning  mounted  drill  is  just  over,  and  the  two  bat 
talions,  having  unsaddled  and  turned  the  horses  out  to 
graze,  are  now  busily  occupied  about  the  camp.  The 
soft  notes  of  the  trumpet  sounding  "  Officer's  Call"  has 
drawn  to  the  colonel's  tent  a  knot  of  tanned  and  athletic 
men  in  rough  field  uniform  and  bristling  beards.  Those 
who  best  know  the  — th  will  be  quicker  to  recognize 
old  friends  in  this  guise  than  when  in  the  glitter  of 
parade  uniform  or  the  accurate  and  irreproachable  even 
ing  dress  of  civilization.  There  is  not  a  man  in  the 
group  who  is  not  quite  at  his  ease  in  ball-room  attire ; 
most  of  them  have  held  acquaintance  time  and  again 
with  the  white  tie  and  stiff  "  choker''  of  convention 
ality,  but  the  average  gallant  of  metropolitan  circles 
would  turn  up  his  supercilious  nostrils  at  the  bare  sug 
gestion  were  he  to  see  them  now.  The  — th  is  in  its 
element,  however,  for  the  order  has  come,  and  with  the 
coming  dawn  it  will  be  on  the  march  for  the  Black 
Hills  of  Dakota,  and  the  colonel  has  summoned  the 
officers  to  his  tent  for  some  final  instructions.  It  must 
be  conceded  that  they  look  like  business  in  their  dark- 
blue  flannel  shirts,  their  "  reinforced"  riding-breeches, 
the  substantial  boots,  and  the  field  blouses  and  broad- 
brimmed  campaign  hats  that  Arizona  suns  and  storms 
have  long  since  robbed  of  gloss  or  freshness.  The  faces 
are  strong  and  virile  in  almost  every  case.  It  is  ten 
days  since  the  razor  has  profaned  a  single  chin,  and  very 
stubbly  and  ugly  do  they  look,  but  long  experience  has 


AT  THE  FRONT.  91 


taught  them  that  the  sooner  the  beard  is  allowed  to 
sprout  when  actual  campaigning  is  to  be  done  the  greater 
the  eventual  comfort.  Occasionally  some  fellow  draws 
ofT  the  rough  leather  gauntlet,  and  then  the  contrast 
between  his  blistered,  wind-and-sun  tanned  face  and  the 
white  hand  is  startling.  Every  man  is  girt  with  belt 
of  stout  make,  and  wears  his  revolver  and  hunting- 
knife, — the  sabre  is  discarded  by  tacit  consent, — its  last 
appearance  for  many  a  long  month.  Some  of  the  num 
ber,  indeed,  have  taken  the  order  to  prepare  for  cam 
paign  work  as  a  permit  to  doff  the  uniform  entirely. 
Gruff  old  Stannard  hates  the  blouse  on  general  princi 
ples,  and  looks  solid  and  "  stocky"  in  his  flannel  shirt ; 
not  a  vestige  of  "  rank"  can  be  found  about  him.  Tur 
ner  and  old  Wilkins,  Crane  and  Hunter,  are  of  his  way 
of  thinking,  but  others  who  preserve  the  military  propri 
eties  to  the  last  are  still  garbed  in  the  undress  uniform 
coat.  Perhaps  they  are  thinking  of  the  good-byes  to 
be  said  in  the  garrison  to-night.  Less  than  twenty 
officers  are  there  who  report  in  answer  to  the  signal, 
and,  having  saluted  the  colonel,  dispose  themselves  on 
the  few  camp-stools  or  on  the  grass  and  wait  for  his 
remarks. 

Some  are  old  friends,  and  some  old  friends  are  absent. 
It  is  odd  to  think  of  the  — th  being  here  in  force  with 
out  Truscott,  or  Ray,  or  old  Bucketts,  the  men  we 
knew  so  wel]  in  Arizona.  Colonel  Pelham  is,  of 
course,  not  looked  for :  he  is  far  too  old  to  be  in  saddle 
on  so  hard  a  campaign  as  this  promises  to  be.  Trus- 
cott's  troop  is  not  yet  here,  but  is  under  orders  to  re 
main  in  Kansas  for  the  present,  and  he,  we  know,  is 
far  away  at  the  Point.  Ray,  with  one  of  the  captains 


92  MARION'S  FAITH. 

whom  we  have  yet  to  meet,  and  with  Mr.  Gleason,  is 
still  detained  on  that  horse  board, — very  reluctantly,  too, 
fretting  himself  into  a  fever  over  it  say  some  accounts, 
and  other  accounts  say  worse.  Bucketts,  as  quarter 
master,  is  behind  at  Hays  gathering  up  the  fragments 
that  remain  and  shipping  property  to  the  new  station. 
Captain  Canker  is  here  :  he  was  East  with  his  wife  and 
little  ones,  vastly  enjoying  the  surf  at  Cape  May,  when 
the  telegram  reached  him  saying  that  the  — th  were  off 
for  the  wars  again,  and  within  twelve  hours  he  was  in 
pursuit.  Four  of  the  group  now  waiting  around  the 
colonel's  tent  came  in  just  that  way. 

"  Gentlemen,"  says  the  colonel,  stepping  quickly  from 
the  tent,  "  I  called  you  here  for  a  word  or  two.  First, 
there  will  be  forty  new  horses  here  at  three  this  after 
noon.  They  will  be  distributed  according  to  color 
among  the  eight  companies,  five  to  each.  See  to  it  that 
they  are  shod  first  thing.  There  will  be  twenty  in  the 
next  lot ;  they  are  to  be  left  here  for  Webb  and  Trus- 
cott.  Overhaul  your  ammunition  and  equipments  at 
once,  and  if  anything  is  lacking,  you  can  draw  from 
Cheyenne  depot  this  afternoon.  I  presume  those  of 
you  who  are  to  take  station  at  Russell  will  want  to  go 
over  to  see  about  your  quarters,  but  my  advice  is  that 
only  those  who  have  families  make  any  selection  :  there 
will  be  some  changes  by  the  time  we  get  back.  We 
march  at  six  in  the  morning,  so  have  everything  cleared 
up  to-day.  There  will  be  no  further  drill.  Those  who 
have  business  to  attend  to  in  town  or  at  the  fort  can 
leave  camp  without  further  permission.  I  shall  remain 
here  until  we  start,  and  one  officer  from  each  troop 
must  be  in  camp,  at  stables,  and  during  night.  That's 


AT  THE  FRONT.  93 

all,  unless  somebody  has  questions  to  ask."     And  the 
colonel  looks  inquiringly  around. 

Apparently  nobody  has,  and  the  group  breaks  up. 
Some  few  of  the  older  officers  remained  to  talk  over 
the  prospects  at  the  colonel's  tent.  Others  went  to  the 
garrison  to  rejoin  anxious  wives  and  children,  and  to 
spend  the  last  day  with  them  in  helping  get  things  set 
tled  in  the  new  army  homes  to  which  they  had  been  so 
suddenly  moved.  A  third  party,  "  the  youngsters,"  or 
junior  officers,  sauntered  across  the  intervening  stretch 
of  prairie  towards  the  low  wooden  building  standing 
just  north  of  the  entrance-gate  of  the  fort.  In  old 
army  days  'twas  known  as  "  the  sutler's."  In  modern 
parlance  it  is  simply  called  "  the  store."  The  middle 
room  of  which,  fitted  up  with  a  couple  of  old-fashioned 
billiard-tables,  a  huge  coal  stove,  some  rough  benches, 
chairs,  two  or  three  round  tables,  and  the  inevitable  bar 
and  cigar-stand,  bore  on  the  portals  the  legend  "offi 
cers',"  as  distinguished  from  the  general  "  club-room" 
beyond. 

Seated  around  the  room  in  various  attitudes  of  ennui 
and  dejection  were  three  or  four  infantry  officers  sta 
tioned  at  the  post,  while  at  one  of  the  tables  a  trio  of 
young  lieutenants  were  killing  time  after  morning  drill 
in  the  fascination  of  "  limited  draw."  Target  practice, 
as  now  conducted,  was  then  unknown,  or  there  would 
have  been  no  time  to  kill.  The  announcement  lan 
guidly  conveyed  from  the  occupant  of  the  window-seat, 
"  A  squad  of  the  — th  coming,"  produced  neither  sen 
sation  nor  visible  effect. 

A  minute  more,  however,  and  the  door  burst  open, 
and  in  they  came,  half  a  dozen  glowing,  breezy,  vigor- 


94  MARION'S  FAITH. 

ous  young  cavalrymen,  ruddy  with  health,  elastic  with 
open-air  life  and  exercise,  brimful  of  good  spirits  and 
cordiality,  and  headed  by  the  declamatory  Blake,  who 
made  a  bee-line  for  the  bar,  shouting, — 

•v 

"  '  An  if  a  man  did  need  a  poison  now, 

Here  lives  a  caitiff  wretch  would  sell  it  him.' 

His  name's  Muldoon,  and  he's  a  fluid  man.  Step  out, 
Muldoon.  What'll  ye  have,  fellers  ?"  he  asked,  with 
the  sudden  transition  from  the  sublime  to  the  ridiculous, 
which  was  one  of  Blake's  delights.  "  Name  your  re 
spective  pizens,  gentlemen.  Come,  join  us,  ye  gallants 
of  mud-crushers.  What,  ho  !  Poker  ?"  and  with  one 
stride  he  was  at  the  table  and  peering  over  the  hands : 
"  No  use,  Sammy, — 

'  Two  queens  with  but  a  single  ace, 
Two  sharps  that  beat  as  one.' 

That's  no  hand  to  tackle  a  one-card  draw  with.  Never 
you  mind  whether  he's  bluffing  or  not.  There  ain't 
enough  in  that  pot  to  warrant  the  expense  of  testing 
the  question.  Take  another  deal.  What  did  you  say, 
Muldoon?  Whiskey?  No!  Throw  whiskey  to  the 
dogs ;  I'll  none  of  it.  Give  me  foaming  lager.  That's 
right,  my  doughboy  ancient.  Didn't  I  tell  you  to  take 
another  hand  ?  What  says  the  inimitable  Pope  ? — 

'  Fair  tresses  man's  imperial  race  ensnare, 
And  Sammy  scoops  us  with  a  single  pair.'  " 

"  Good  heavens !    Blake,     Give  us  a  rest !     Here, 


AT  THE  FRONT.  95 

swallow  your  beer,  or  take  something  to  choke  you," 
laughed  the  victim  at  the  table,  while  a  chorus  of 
groans  saluted  Blake's  unconscionable  parodies.  "  If 
you  were  to  be  here  a  week  longer  I  vow  I'd  go  mad. 
The  best  news  Pve  heard  in  a  year  is  that  you're 
ordered  to  march  in  the  morning.  What  quarters  did 
you  choose?" 

"  What  difference  does  it  make  to  you,  Rags  ?"  put 
in  Mr.  Dana.  "You  fellows  will  have  the  post  to 
yourselves  all  summer,  anyhow.  We  shan't  get  out 
so  much  as  a  chair  until  we  come  back  from  the 
campaign." 

"Well,  the  married  officers  have  chosen  theirs, 
you  know.  Stannard's  traps  are  all  moved  into  No. 
11,  and  they  are  pretty  nearly  settled  already, — the 
carpets  were  all  down  yesterday.  So  they  were  at 
Turner's.  Mrs.  Whaling  has  been  helping  them  un 
pack  for  the  last  three  days,  and  telling  everybody  what 
they  had  and  didn't  have.  I  tell  you  what,  fellows, 
we're  going  to  have  no  end  of  a  good  time  here  this 
summer  with  your  band  and  all  the  ladies  while  you're 
roughing  it  out  on  the  Big  Horn.  Whaling  says  he'll 
bet  a  hat  none  of  you  get  back  before  Thanksgiving." 

"  Is  it  so  that  Truscott  comes  here  with  his  troop  ?" 
asked  one  of  the  captains  of  Lieutenant  Crane. 

"Well,  the  troop  comes,  but  as  to  Truscott,  that's 
another  matter." 

"  I  don't  understand  you,  Crane,"  said  Mr.  Blake, 
with  sudden  change  from  his  roystering  manner.  "  I 
thought  you  heard  Ray  say  that  he  knew  Truscott 
would  be  after  us  as  soon  as  it  was  settled  that  we 
would  take  the  field." 


96  .  MARION'S  FAITH. 

"  Ray  knew  no  more  about  it  than  you  do,  Blake/' 
was  the  impatient  reply.  "  Ray  has  a  fashion  of  being 
.  oracular  where  Truscott  is  concerned  as  though  he  were 
on  intimate  and  confidential  terms  with  him.  Now  I, 
for  one,  don't  believe  he  had  any  authority  whatever 
for  saying  what  he  did." 

"Well,  hold  on  here,"  said  Blake,  deliberately. 
ft  My  recollection  is  that  Ray  only  spoke  of  it  as  his 
conviction, — not  that  Truscott  had  told  him  anything ; 
still,  he  was  certain  that  Truscott  would  come,  and  that 
he  would  lose  no  time  in  getting  relieved  either.  You 
know  he  is  at  the  Point,"  he  said,  in  explanation,  to  the 
silent  infantryman. 

"  Well,  I'm  d — d  if  I  can  understand  it  in  him," 
muttered  Wilkins,  as  he  buried  his  broad  face  in  a 
beer-mug. 

"  No,  Wilkins,  I  dare  say  you  can't,"  was  the  drawl 
ing  reply,  and  the  sarcasm  was  not  lost  among  the 
listeners,  though  it  missed  its  effect  *on  the  stolid  object. 
"  Truscott,  Ray,  Heath,  and  Wayne,  and  Canker,  are 
not  the  style  of  men  to  spend  this  summer,  of  all  others, 
away  from  the  regiment." 

"Well,  here  we  are,  marching  to-morrow,  and 
where  are  your  Ray  and  Truscott?"  asked  Wilkins, 
with  as  near  an  approach  to  a  sneer  as  he  dare  venture. 

Blake  rose  quickly  from  his  chair,  near  where  the 
trio  still  continued  their  game,  though  by  this  time  far 
more  interested  in  the  tone  of  the  talk  than  in  "  ten- 
cent  ante."  Dana  and  Hunter,  too,  were  flushing  and 
looking  ill  at  ease. 

"  This  is  no  time  or  place  to  be  discussing  regimental 
matters,"  said  he ;  "  but  since  the  matter  has  come  to  it, 


AT  THE  FRONT.  97 

I  mean  to  give  what  I  believe  to  be  the  general  opinion 
as  opposed  to  that  of  a  limited  few.  Crane,  Wilkins, 
you  are  the  only  men  I  have  heard  express  any  doubts 
as  to  Truscott's  coming,  or  Ray's,  for  that  matter.  I've 
got  just  fifty  dollars  here  to  bet  against  your  ten  that 
if  this  regiment  has  any  fighting  to  do  this  summer 
they'll  both  be  in  it." 

"I'm  not  making  bets  on  any  such  event,  Blake, 
and  I  did  not  mean  to  intimate  that  they  were  not  apt 
to  come,"  said  Crane,  conscious  that  he  had  been  incau 
tious. 

"Well,  you  then,  Wilkins,"  said  Blake,  impul 
sively.  "  I  want  this  thing  clinched.  It  is  the  third 
or  fourth  time  I've  heard  you  half  sneering  about  these 
two  men.  It's  bad  enough  in  the  regiment,  but  you  are 
talking  now  in  a  bar-room  and  among  outsiders.  By 
Jove !  if  there's  no  other  way,  I  say  stop  it." 

There  was  an  embarrassed  silence.  This  was  a  new 
trait  in  Blake,  one  of  the  most  jovial,  whole-souled, 
rattle-brained  fellows  imaginable  ordinarily,  but  now 
he  seemed  transformed.  For  years  the  regiment  had 
been  serving  by  itself.  Now  for  the  first  time  it  was 
thrown  into  contact  with  the  comparative  strangers  of 
the  infantry.  These  gentlemen,  too,  were  ill  at  ease  at 
the  suppressed  feeling  in  the  conversation,  but  Wilkins 
was  "  mulish"  at  times,  and  he  had  a  reserve. 

"  If  you  know  Truscott's  coming  it  ain't  fair  to  bet," 
he  muttered,  sulkily ;  "but  you'd  better  go  slow  on 
backing  Ray ;  that's  my  advice,  Blake,  unless  you've 
more  money  than  you  know  what  to  do  with." 

"  All  the  same,  I  stand  by  my  bet/  Do  you  take  it  ?" 

"  Oh,  dash  your  bet !     Blake,  I'm  no  betting  man ; 

E         g  9 


98  MARION'S  FAITH. 

but  you'd  better  be  certain  what  Ray's  doing  before 
you  champion  him  so  glibly.  Perhaps  I  know  more 
than  you  think/7 

Blake's  face  clouded  a  little. 

"  I  don't  like  your  hints,  Wilkins.  We  all  know, 
of  course,  that  Ray  has  been  wild  and  reckless  many  a 
time,  but  he  is  disbursing  officer  of  that  horse  board ; 
he  is  the  man  of  all  others  on  it  to  decide  what  they'll 
take  and  what  they  won't  take.  Buxton  knows  mighty 
little  about  horses  and  will  vote  as  Ray  does,  so  that 
leaves  the  responsibility  with  him.  He  never  failed 
us  yet,  and,  by  gad  !  I  don't  believe  he  will  now." 

"  All  right !  Blake,  just  you  wait.  All  I've  got  to 
say  is  that  if  Ray  wants  to  keep  his  skirts  out  of  the 
mud  he'd  better  quit  the  company  of  that  fellow 
Rallston,  and  I  hear  he's  with  him  day  and  night,  and 
has  done  no  little  drinking  and  card-playing  with  him 
already.  I  don't  say  gambling,  but  there's  those  that 
do,"  continued  Wilkins,  hotly. 

"  More  than  that,"  he  went  on,  after  a  pause.  "  When 
Wayne  came  through  Kansas  City,  Gleason  and  Buxton 
were  at  the  tram  to  meet  him,  but  they  didn't  know, 
they  said,  where  Ray  was.  I  heard  he  was  at  the 
hotel  sick ;  been  on  a  tear,  I  suppose." 

"  See  here,  Wilkins,  unless  you  can  prove  it  let  up 
on  this  sort  of  talk.  Ray  told  Stannard  when  lie  went 
on  this  detail  that  he  would  touch  no  card  so  long  as 
he  was  disbursing  officer,  and  that  he'd  let  John  Bar 
leycorn  alone.  Now,  do  you  know  he  has  been  on  any 
spree?" 

"  No,  I  don't  know  it,  Blake,  and  yet  I'm  certain 
of  it  just  from  past  experience  with  him." 


AT  THE  FRONT.  99 

"  By  gad !  you're  as  bad  as  old  Backbite  himself. 
Do  you  remember  that  time  Chip  of  the  artillery  was 
walking  down  Nassau  Street,  and  a  steam-boiler  or 
something  burst  under  the  sidewalk  and  broke  his  leg  ? 
The  first  thing  old  Backbite  said  when  he  heard  of  it 
was,  '  IFm  !  been  drinking,  I  suppose.'  Now  here's 
Billings  with  a  despatch.  What  is  it,  bully  rook  ?"  he 
hailed,  as  the  adjutant  came  bounding  in. 

"Truscott  starts  to-night,  and  the  horse  board  will 
break  up  next  week,  so  we'll  have  Jack  and  Ray  with 
us  inside  of  ten  days." 

"  Precisely.  Now,  Wilkins,  if  you  want  a  nice  mud- 
bath  for  your  head,  there's  an  elegant  spot  back  of  the 
stables.  Come  on,  Billings,  I'm  going  to  camp." 

And  with  that  he  left,  followed  by  all  the  cavalry 
men  but  Wilkins  and  his  associate  Crane.  The  latter 
held  the  ground,  and,  as  they  were  plainly  the  defeated 
parties  in  the  argument  so  far,  human  nature  demanded 
that  Mr;  Wilkins  should  set  himself  right  in  the  eyes 
of  the  reluctant  auditors,  and  so  it  happened  that 
among  the  officers  composing  what  might  be  termed 
the  permanent  garrison  of  the  post  the  first  impres 
sions  received  of  Mr.  Ray  were  conveyed  by  a  tongue 
as  ill  regulated  as — other  people's  children. 


100  MARION'S  FAITH. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

WAR   RUMORS. 

THE  announcement  that  Captain  Truscott  had  gone 
to  Washington  was  received  at  the  officers7  mess  with 
no  little  excitement.  Questioned  as  to  the  meaning  of 
it,  the  commandant  of  cadets  unreservedly  replied  that 
Truscott  would  not  risk  failure,  but,  with  the  full  per 
mission  of  the  superintendent,  had  gone  to  see  the  Sec 
retary  of  War  and  get  immediate  orders  to  join  his 
regiment.  The  — th  was  to  take  the  field  at  once,  said 
the  colonel,  and  Truscott  felt  that  it  was  his  duty  to  go. 
Things  looked  very  much  as  though  there  would  be  a 
stubborn  and  protracted  Indian  war,  and  undoubtedly 
the  captain  was  right  in  his  view  of  the  matter.  In  this 
opinion  there  was  general  acquiescence  among  the  staff 
and  artillery  officers  present, — it  is  always  safe  to  adhere 
to  general  principles  which  are  not  apt'  to  be  personal 
in  their  application,  and  the  staff  and  artillery  rarely 
were  called  upon  to  take  part  in  such  hostilities, — and 
Mr.  Ferris  being  a  cavalryman  of  spirit  was  quite  dis 
posed  to  think  it  the  proper  thing  for  him,  too,  to  ask 
for  orders,  although  the  possibility  of  his  regiment's 
being  involved  was  indeed  remote.  One  or  two  officers, 
however,  maintained  that  the  principle  was  bad  as  a 
precedent ;  that  hereafter  officers  might  feel  it  a  reflec 
tion  upon  them  if  they  did  not  immediately  ask  to  be 
sent  to  their  commands  on  the  first  rumor  of  hostilities, 
no  matter  how  important  might  be  the  duties  upon 


WAR  RUMORS.  '{fa 

which  they  were  detached.  On  this  view  of  the  case 
very  little  was  said,  but  one  or  two  gentlemen  whose 
regiments  were  known  to  be  marching  on  the  Yellow 
stone  country  looked  gratefully  at  the  originator  and 
nodded  their  heads  appreciatively.  It  was  mid  June 
now,  and  except  the  fight  with  Crazy  Horse's  band  on 
Patrick's  Day  and  an  unimportant  brush  with  the  Sioux 
on  the  head-waters  of  the  Tongue  River,  nothing  that 
could  be  called  "  hostilities"  had  really  taken  place. 
"  The  Indians  will  be  surrounded  and  will  surrender 
without  a  blow/'  said  those  who  sought  for  reason  to 
evade  going  ;  but  no  man  who  knew  anything  of  Indian 
character  or  Indian  methods  believed  that  for  an  instant. 
Every  experienced  officer  knew,  and  knew  well,  that  a 
mortal  struggle  must  come  and  come  soon,  and  come 
it  did. 

But  Jack  Truscott  needed  no  such  spur  to  urge  him 
on  the  path  of  duty.  What  it  cost  to  cut  loose  from 
all  that  was  so  beautiful  to  him  in  his  happy  home  no 
one  ever  knew.  What  it  cost  his  brave  young  wife  to 
let  him  go  was  never  told.  Barely  half  a  year  had  they 
rejoiced  together  in  their  love-lit  surroundings,  the  most 
envied  couple  at  the  Point, — and  there  is  vast  comfort 
in  being  envied, — and  Grace  Truscott  had  never  for  an 
instant  dreamed  that  so  rude  an  interruption  could  come ; 
but  come  it  had,  with  blinding,  sudden  force,  that  for 
a  time  stunned  and  wellnigh  crushed  her.  Jack  had 
lifted  her  in  his  strong  arms  and  almost  carried  her 
to  their  room  the  night  when  he  had  to  tell  her  of  his 
determination,  but,  once  satisfied  that  his  duty  was 
plain,  she  rallied,  like  the  soldier's  daughter  she  was, 
and  spoke  no  word  of  repining.  She  looked  up  in  hid 

9* 


MARION'S  FAITH. 

eyes  and  bade  him  go.  True,  she  cherished  faint  hope 
that  in  Washington  there  would  be  attempt  to  dissuade 
him,  for  she  had  good  reason  to  know  that  in  the  days 
whereof  we  write  there  were  officials  of  the  War  De 
partment  who  regarded  Indian  warfare  on  the  frontier 
as  a  matter  quite  beneath  their  notice, — one  which  might 
of  course  concern  the  officers  and  men  actually  engaged, 
but  that  could  be  of  small  moment  to  the  Army, — that 
is,  the  Army  as  known  to  society,  as  known  to  the  press, 
and,  'tis  to  be  feared,  as  understood  by  Congress, — the 
Army  in  its  exclusive  and  somewhat  supercilious  exist 
ence  at  the  National  Capital.  Colonel  and  Mrs.  Pel- 
ham  were  there,  and  Jack  would  of  course  see  them ; 
and  was  it  not  possible  that  there  would  be  officials  of 
the  highest  authority  who  could  convince  him  that  his 
services  were  not  needed  at  the  front,  but  could  not  be 
dispensed  with  at  the  Point  ?  Poor  Grace  !  She  little 
dreamed  that  for  such  a  place  as  her  husband  held  there 
were  dozens  of  applicants,  and  that  senators  and  repre 
sentatives  by  the  score  had  favorites  and  friends  whom 
they  were  eager  to  urge  for  every  Eastern  detail ;  and 
then,  even  now  she  did  not  entirely  know  her  Jack :  so 
gentle,  loving,  caressing,  as  he  was  with  her,  she  could 
hardly  realize  the  inflexibility  of  his  purpose.  The 
interview  with  the  Secretary  of  War  was  over  in  five 
minutes,  and  never  had  that  functionary  experienced 
such  a  surprise.  He  had  received  Captain  Truscott's 
card  and  directed  that  he  be  admitted,  vaguely  remem 
bering  him  as  the  tall  cavalry  officer  whom  he  had  seen 
at  the  Point  on  the  first  of  the  month,  and  whom,  after 
the  manner  of  his  kind,  he  had  begged  "  to  let  him 
know  if  there  should  ever  be  anything  he  could  do  for 


WAR  RUMORS.  103 

him  in  Washington,"  and  now  here  he  was,  and  had  a 
favor  to  ask.  The  Secretary  sighed  and  looked  up 
drearily  from  his  papers,  but  rose  and  shook  hands  with 
the  young  officer  who  entered,  and  blandly  asked  him 
to  be  seated.  Captain  Truscott,  however,  bowed  his 
thanks,  said  that  he  had  just  left  the  adjutant-general, 
and  had  his  full  permission  to  present  in  person  this 
note  from  the  superintendent  of  the  Academy,  and  his, 
the  captain's,  request  to  be  immediately  relieved  from 
duty  at  West  Point  with  orders  to  join  his  regiment, 
then  en  route  to  reinforce  General  Crook. 

The  Secretary  mechanically  took  the  note  between 
his  nerveless  fingers,  and  simply  stared  at  his  visitor. 
At  last  he  broke  forth, — 

"  By  the  Eternal !"  (and  the  administration  was  not 
Jacksonian  either)  "  Captain  Truscott.  This  beats  any 
thing  in  my  experience.  Since  I've  been  in  office  every 
man  who  has  called  upon  me  has  wanted  orders  for 
himself  or  somebody  else  to  come  East.  Do  you  mean 
you  want  to  go  West  and  rejoin  your  regiment  to  do 
more  of  this  Indian  fighting  ?" 

"Certainly,  Mr.  Secretary,"  was  Truscott's  half- 
amused  reply. 

"  It  shall  be  as  you  wish,  of  course,"  said  the  cabinet 
officer ;  "  but  I've  no  words  to  say  how  I  appreciate  it. 
You  seem  to  be  of  a  different  kind  of  timber  from 
those  fellows  who  are  always  hanging  around  Wash 
ington, — not  but  what  they  are  all  very  necessary, 
and  that  sort  of  thing,"  put  in  the  Secretary,  diplo 
matically  ;  "  but  we  have  no  end  of  men  who  want  to 
come  to  Washington.  You're  the  first  man  I've  heard 
of  who  wanted  to  go.  By  Jove  !  Captain  Truscott.  Is 


104  MARION'S  FAITH. 

there  anything  else  you  want  ?  Is  there  anything  I  can 
do  that  will  convey  to  you  my  appreciation  of  your 
course  ?" 

"  Well,  sir,  I  have  spoken  to  the  adjutant-general 
about  some  six  men  of  the  cavalry  detachment  at  the 
Point  who  are  eager  to  go  to  the  frontier  for  active 
service.  If  they  could  be  transferred, — sent  out  with 
recruits ;  we  are  short-handed  in  the  — th,  and  my  own 
troop  needs  non-commissioned  officers." 

"  Certainly  it  can  be  done.  We'll  see  General  T 

about  it  at  once." 

That  night  Grace's  last  hope  was  broken  by  the  tele 
gram  from  Washington,  which  told  her  that  Jack  would 
be  home  next  day  and  that  the  orders  were  -issued. 

Mrs.  Pelham  had  stormed,  of  course,  that  is — to  her 
husband.  She  stood  in  awe  of  Jack,  and  had  counted 
on  spending  much  of  the  summer  at  the  Point.  Living 
as  they  were  at  a  Washington  hotel,  expenses  were  very 
heavy,  and  madame  had  planned  to  recuperate  her  ex 
hausted  frame  and  fortune  in  a  long  visit  to  dear  Grace, 
who  really  ought  to  have  a  mother's — "  well,  at  least, 
if  the  captain  is  to  be  away  so  mucli  of  the  time,  she 
will  surely  be  lonely,"  madame  had  argued.  It  was 
really  quite  fortunate  that  he  had  to  go  to  Kentucky  to 
buy  horses.  In  his  absence  she  might  recover  much  of 
the  ground  she  felt  she  had  lost  in  the  Lost  year.  The 
plan  was  fairly  developed  in  her  strategical  mind,  when 
who  should  appear  but  the  captain  limiself,  and  with 
the  brief  announcement  that  they  would  start  for  Wy 
oming  in  a  week. 

Madame  could  not  believe  her  senses ;  but  either 
from  shock  or  unusually  profound  discretion,  she  re- 


WAR   RUMORS.  105 

framed  from  an  expression  of  her  sentiments,  and 
Truscott  continued  his  calm  explanation.  Grace  had 
borne  up  bravely  at  the  idea  of  his  throwing  away  the 
detail  at  the  Point,  but  had  made  one  stipulation.  She 
should  go  with  him  to  the  frontier,  rebuild  their  nest 
at  the  new  station  of  his  troop,  and  be  near  him  as 
woman  could  be  during  the  summer's  campaign,  and 
all  ready  to  welcome  him  home  at  its  close.  He  could 
not  say  her  nay.  Old  Pelham's  eyes  brimmed  with 
tears,  but  when  he  spoke  it  was  only  to  repress  the  im 
petuous  outbreak  of  his  wife. 

"Now,  Dolly,  no  words.  Truscott's  right,  so  is 
Grace.  It's  bound  to  be  a  sharp  campaign  no  matter 
what  your  society  friends  say.  By  gad  !  I'd — I'd 
give  anything  to  go,  but  I'm  too  old,  Jack ;  I'd  only 
be  in  the  way.  You're  right,  my  boy.  You're  right ; 
you  always  are.  Your  place  is  with  the  regiment 
when  there's  work  to  be  done,  and  Grace  is  a  soldier's 
wife.  She's  right,  too.  Her  place  is  near  him." 

In  vain  Mrs.  Pelham  argued  that  Grace  could  better 
remain  East.  Jack  knew  his  wife's  mind.  She  would 
be  just  as  comfortable  ;  she  would  be  far  happier  in 
the  cosey  quarters  of  the  big  garrison  at  Russell.  She 
would  have  Mrs.  Stannard,  whom  they  all  loved,  for 
friend  and  companion,  and  there  were  a  dozen  pleasant 
acquaintances  among  the  ladies  there  to  be  quartered. 
It  was  simply  useless  for  madame  to  interpose.  Every 
thing  had  been  settled  beforehand  and  without  reference 
to  her.  The  best  they  could  do  was  to  accept  Jack's 
invitation  to  come  to  the  Point,  be  his  guests  at  the 
hotel,  and  see  them  off.  He  would  dismantle  his 
quarters  forthwith. 


106  MARION'S  FAITH. 

And  when  he  returned  to  Grace  next  day  she  was 
brave,  smiling,  really  happy.  She  gloried  in  the  idea 
of  going  with  her  soldier  husband  back  to  the  dear  old 
— th,  and  she  had  another  plan, — a  surprise.  She  and 
Marion  had  had  a  long  talk,  and  as  a  result  Marion 
wanted  to  go  too.  It  was  novel.  It  was  almost  start 
ling,  yet — why  not  ?  Several  young  ladies  were  already 
visiting  at  Hays, — two  of  them  were  going, — had  gone 
to  Russell  with  relatives  who  were  married  in  the  — th. 
Miss  Sanford  was  to  have  spent  the  summer  with  them 
at  the  Point.  Why  should  she  not  accompany  Grace 
to  Wyoming  and  see  something  of  that  odd  army  life 
of  which  she  had  heard  so  much.  If  Captain  Truscott 
would  have  her  she  knew  no  reason  to  prevent.  And 
they  all  knew  that  in  the  captain's  enforced  absence  on 
the  campaign  no  one  could  be  so  great  a  comfort,  so 
dear  a  companion  to  Grace,  as  her  schoolmate  Marion. 
There  was  only  one  question,  said  Truscott,  •"  Will 
Mr.  Sanford  consent?" 

"  I  will  write  to-night/7  said  the  young  lady,  in  reply, 
"  and  I  feel  confident  of  his  answer." 

Within  a  week,  as  we  know,  the  telegram  had  reached 
the  — th  announcing  Truseott's  move,  and  that  very 
afternoon  Mrs.  Stannard,  seated  on  the  piazza  of  her 
new  quarters  and  gazing  southward  across  the  bare 
parade  to  the  dun-colored  barracks  on  the  other  side 
and  the  snow-capped  peaks  of  Colorado  seemingly  just 
beyond,  was  startled  by  a  sudden  sensation  in  the 
group  of  officers  in  front  of  Colonel  Whaling's.  An 
other  telegram.  Presently  her  husband  left  the  group 
and  came  quickly  to  her,  hands  in  his  pockets  as  usual, 
and  with  his  customary  expression  of  unastonishable 


WAR  RUMORS.  107 

nonchalance.  Still,  she  saw  he  had  disturbing  news,  and 
she  rose  anxiously  to  meet  him,  her  sweet  blue  eyes 
clouded  with  the  dread  she  strove  to  repress. 

"What  is  it,  Luce?"  she  asked. 

The  major  unpursed  his  lips  and  abandoned  the 
attempted  whistle. 

"  Been  a  fight — way  up  on  the  Rosebud/'  he  briefly 
said,  as  he  dropped  into  a  chair,  still  maintaining  his 
apparent  indifference  of  manner. 

"  Yes ;  but — what  was  it  ?    Who  is  hurt  this  time  ?" 

«H ,  of  the  Third;  shot  through  the  face;  can't 

live,  they  say.  Reckon  that  isn't  the  worst  of  it,  either. 
Crook  found  the  Indians  far  too  many  for  him  and  he 
had  to  fall  back  to  his  camps." 

"  Oh,  Luce !  Then  it  will  be  a  hard  campaign. 
What  news  for  the  — th?" 

"  Nothing  as  yet.  We  march,  of  course,  at  daybreak, 
and  I  suppose  the  rest  of  the  regiment  will  be  hurried 
up  from  Kansas.  What  must  be  looked  after  at  once 
is  the  great  mass  of  Indians  at  the  Red  Cloud  and 
Spotted  Tail  reservations  on  White  River.  They  will 
get  this  news  within  the  next  twenty-four  hours,  and  it 
will  so  embolden  them  that  the  entire  gang  will  probably 
take  the  war-path.  There  is  where  we  will  be  sent,  I 
fancy.  Orders  will  reach  us  at  Laramie.  They  say 
Sheridan  himself  is  on  his  way  to  the  reservations  to 
look  into  matters.  Mrs.  Turner  been  here  ?"  he  sud 
denly  asked,  with  a  quick  glance  from  under  his  shaggy 
eyebrows. 

"  Mrs.  Turner  ?     Not  since  morning.     Why  ?" 

"  There  was  a  sort  of  snarl  down  at  the  store  this 
morning,  Some  mention  of  it  was  made  while  we  were 


108  MARION'S  FAITH. 

talking  there  'at  Whaling's,  and  I  was  anxious  to  get  the 
particulars.  Wilkins  was  saying  something  about  Ray 
that  worries  me.  Have  you  heard  nothing  ?" 

"  Not  a  thing,  Luce.  Did  you  suppose  Mrs.  Turner 
was  possessed  of  all  the  information  and  would  come 
to  me  with  it  ?" 

The  major  looked  uncomfortable.  "  She  would  be 
apt  to  go  to  somebody,  and  you  were  the  nearest.  Both 
those  youngsters,  Dana  and  Hunter,  were  present,  and 
they  are  leaky  vessels,  Fm  told.  Turner  never  tells 
her  anything,  but  the  boys  do." 

"  What  a  thing  to  say,  Luce  !" 

"  Can't  help  it,"  growled  the  major,  thrusting  out  his 
spurred  boot-heels  towards  the  railing  and  tilting  back 
in  his  chair.  "  You  never  heard,  I  suppose,  that  be 
tween  her  and  Mrs.  Raymond  and  Mrs.  Wilkins  there 
was  a  regular  intelligence  bureau  at  Sandy  two  years 
ago.  So  you  heard  nothing  about  this  affair  ?" 

"  Not  a  word ;  and  it  occurs  to  me,  Major  Stannard, 
that  you  look  vastly  as  though  you  wish  Mrs.  Turner 
had  come  with  the  details.  That's  just  the  way  with 
you  men.  You  rail  at  our  sex  for  gossiping,  and 
growl  when  we  can't  or  won't  tell  you  anything.  Luce  ! 
Luce  !  How  consistent !"  And  in  her  enjoyment  of  her 
burly  lord's  discomfiture,  Mrs.  Stannard  forgot  for  the 
moment  her  many  anxieties  and  laughed  blithely. 

The  major  had  too  much  to  worry  him,  however, 
and  this  was  so  evident  to  his  devoted  wife  that  her 
laugh  was  brief, — it  was  never  loud  or  strident, — and 
she  moved  her  chair  nearer  to  his  own. 

"  Is  Mr.  Ray  in  any  trouble  ?"  she  asked,  with  gen 
uine  concern. 


WAR  RUMORS.  109 

"  I  don't  know.  Of  the  officers  present  at  the  con 
versation  in  the  store  this  morning  all  I  have  since 
seen  were  infantrymen,  whom  I  couldn't  ask.  Wayne 
and  Merrill  heard  something  of  it  and  came  to  me  at 
once  because  of  their  regard  for  Ray,  but  Blake  has 
gone  to  town.  He  is  the  man  who  snubbed  Crane  and 
AVilkins.  It  seems  Wilkins  claims  to  have  a  letter 
from  somebody — that  man  Gleason  probably — to  the 
effect  that  Ray  has  been  on  a  perpetual  tear  with  the 
very  man  of  all  others  I  dreaded  his  meeting.  You 
remember  that  contractor,  Rallston." 

"  Mr.  Ray's  brother-in-law  ?" 

"  Yes  ;  worse  luck  !  I  knew  the  fellow  by  reputa 
tion  before  we  went  to  Arizona.  He's  a  scoundrel,  and 
a  very  polished  one,  too.  Ray  is  smart  enough  ordi 
narily,  but  if  Rallston  has  been  trying  to  sell  him 
horses  there  will  be  trouble  sooner  or  later.  I'm  more 
worried  about  that  than  over  the  campaign  news.  Sorry 

about  H ,  of  course,  though  I'd  never  met  him  : 

They  say  he  is  a  capital  officer ;  but  I  can't  start  to 
morrow  and  have  this  thing  haunting  me  all  the  way 
up  to  Laramie.  I'll  go  down  to  camp  and  hunt  up 
Wilkins,  and  ask  him  flat-footed  for  his  whole  story ; 
then  there  will  be  time  to  write  to  Ray,  or  telegraph  if 
need  be." 

That  was  a  dreary  night  at  Russell.  All  the  after 
noon  the  telegraph  instrument  at  headquarters  \vas 
clicking  away  with  details  of  the  brief  and  sudden  fight 
upon  the  Rosebud,  and  the  officers  read  in  silence  the 
description  of  the  hordes  upon  hordes  of  savages  that 
swooped  down  upon  Crook's  little  column,  and  whirled 
his  allied  Absarakas  and  Shoshones  off  the  wooded 

10 


HO  MARION'S  FAITH. 

bluffs.  "They  must  have  been  reinforced  from  every 
reservation  between  the  Missouri  and  the  mountains," 
was  the  comment,  for  the  whole  country  swarmed  with 
them.  Scout  after  scout  had  been  sent  out  to  strive  to 
push  through  to  the  Yellowstone  and  communicate  with 
General  Terry's  forces,  known  to  be  concentrated  at  the 
mouth  of  the  Tongue.  Some  had  come  back,  chased 
in  to  the  very  guard  by  yelling  "  hostiles."  Several  had 
failed  to  return  at  all,  but — significant  fact — none  had 
succeeded  in  getting  through.  The  last  of  June  would 
soon  be  at  hand  ;  the  forces  that  were  to  co-operate — 
Crook's  from  the  Big  Horn  foot-hills  at  the  south, 
Terry's  from  the  banks  of  the  Yellowstone  at  the 
north — had  reached  their  appointed  stations  and  even 
gone  beyond,  but  not  a  vestige  of  communication  could 
they  establish  one  with  the  other.  Crook,  striving  to 
force  his  way  through  from  his  corrals  and  camps,  had 
been  overpowered  and  thrust  back  by  the  concentration 
upon  him  of  five  times  his  weight  in  foes.  Terry,  send 
ing  his  cavalry  scouting  up  the  Rosebud,  found  an  un 
impeded  passage  for  miles  and  miles ;  and  even  as  our 
friends  at  Russell  were  reading  with  gloomy  faces  the 
tidings  from  the  front,  a  little  battalion  of  cavalry, 
pushing  venturously  up  the  wild  and  picturesque  val 
ley,  came  suddenly  upon  a  sight  that  bade  their  leader 
pause. 

Up  from  among  the  wild  rose-bushes  along  the 
sparkling  stream,  and  climbing  the  great  "  divide"  to 
the  west,  there  ran  a  broad,  new-beaten,  dusty  trail, 
pounded  by  the  hoofs  of  ten  thousand  ponies,  strewn 
on  every  side  with  abandoned  lodge-poles,  worn-out 
blankets,  or  other  impedimenta,  malodorous,  unsightly. 


WAR   RUMORS.  HI 

"The  Indians  have  crossed  to  the  Little  Horn  \uthin 
the  last  three  days,"  said  the  experienced  scouts  in  the 
advance.  Back  went  the  column  down  the  valley  to 
report  the  news,  and  three  days  afterwards  two  war- 
tried  regiments  of  horse  were  en  route.  From  the 
south,  heading  for  the  Black  Hills  of  Dakota,  with 
orders  to  find  the  trail  leading  from  the  reservations  to 
the  Indian  country  and  put  a  stop  to  the  forwarding 
of  reinforcements  or  supplies,  rode  our  old  Arizona 
acquaintances  of  the  — th.  From  the  north,  pushing 
up  the  Rosebud  into  the  very  heart  of  the  hostile  re 
gions,  with  orders  to  find  the  lurking-place  of  the 
swarming  savages  and  "hold  them"  from  the  east, 
there  came  a  command  and  a  commander  famed  in  song 
and  story.  Between  them  and  the  Big  Horn  heights 
and  cafions,  where  lay  the  comrade  force  of  Crook, 
there  rolled  a  glorious  tract  of  wooded  crest,  of  sweep 
ing,  upland  prairie,  of  deep  and  sheltered  valley,  of 
plashing  stream  and  foaming  torrent,  and  there  in  their 
guarded  fastness,  exulting  in  their  strength,  mad  with 
rejoicing  over  their  easy  victory,  lighting  the  valley  for 
miles  with  their  council-fires,  rousing  the  echoes  with 
triumphant  shout  and  speech,  thousand  upon  thousand 
gathered  the  Indian  foemen,  "covering  the  hills  like  a 
red  cloud." 


112  MARION'S  FAITH. 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

AT   RUSSELL. 

"  WHAT  do  you  think !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Turner, 
breathlessly,  as  she  rushed  in  upon  her  friend  Mrs. 
Stannard  one  bright  morning  a  week  later,  "  Mrs. 
Truscott  and  Miss  Sanford  will  both  be  here  to-morrow. 
Mr.  Gleason  escorts  them.  "Why  !"  she  added,  in  visi 
ble  disappointment,  "  you  knew  all  about  it  all  the  time. 
Why  didn't  you  tell  me  ?" 

"I  only  knew  yesterday,  Mrs.  Turner,'7  was  the 
smiling  reply.  "  They  will  stay  with  me  until  their 
quarters  are  ready.  Captain  Truscott  and  Captain 
Webb  will  camp  here  with  their  troops  until  further 
orders,  and  you  knew,  of  course,  that  they  were  on 
their  way.  The  ladies  were  to  have  gone  to  the  hotel 
in  town,  but  Major  Stannard  sent  word  before  he  left 
that  Mrs.  Truscott  must  come  to  me,  and  I  have  plenty 
of  room  for  Miss  Sanford,  too." 

"  Won't  it  be  delightful  to  have  them  ?  It  will  add 
ever  so  much  to  the  life  of  the  post,"  said  Mrs.  Turner, 
with  visions  of  hops  and  parties  innumerable  flitting 
through  her  pretty  head.  It  was  a  week  since  the  — th 
had  broken  camp  and  marched  away.  Already  they 
were  far  across  the  Platte  and  up  out  of  reach  of  all 
telegraphic  communication  somewhere  among  the  breaks 
of  the  South  Cheyenne,  and  right  in  among  the  bands 
now  known  to  be  hurrying  day  and  night,  northwest- 


AT  RUSSELL.  113 

ward,  to  join  the  hordes  of  Sitting  Bull.  Captain 
Turner  had  been  unusually  grave  in  parting  with  his 
wife,  but  that  blissfully  constituted  matron  had  shed 
few  tears.  She  was  philosophic  and  sensible  beyond 
question.  What  good  was  there  in  borrowing  trouble  ? 
Didn't  the  captain  have  to  go  time  and  again  just  the 
same  way  in  Arizona,  and  didn't  he  always  come  back 
safely  ?  Of  course,  poor  Captain  Tanner  and  Captain 
Squires,  and  Mr.  Clay  and  Mr.  Walters  and  others, 
had  been  killed,  and  lots  of  them  were  wounded  at  one 
time  or  another ;  but  heavens  !  if  one  had  to  go  into 
deep  mourning  every  time  a  husband  had  to  take  the 
field,  there  would  be  no  living  in  the  cavalry  at  all ! 
Mrs.  Turner  was  unquestionably  sensible,  and  far  be  it 
from  our  intention  to  upbraid  her.  Ladies  there  were 
in  the  — th  who  spent  several  days  in  prayers  and 
tears  after  they  had  seen  the  last  of  the  guidons  as 
they  fluttered  away  over  the  "  divide"  towards  Lodge 
Pole,  and  with  these  afflicted  ones  Mrs.  Whaling,  the 
"commanding  officer's  lady,"  would  fain  have  lav 
ished  hours  of  time  in  sympathizing  converse.  She 
loved  the  melodramatic,  and  was  never  so  happy,  said 
Blake,  as  when  bathed  in  tears.  Detractors  of  this  es 
timable  woman,  indeed,  were  wont  to  complain  that  she 
was  too  easily  content  with  these  pearly  but  insufficient 
aids  to  lavatory  process ;  and  her  propensity  for  adher 
ing  for  weeks  at  a  time  to  an  ancient  black  silk,  which 
had  seen  service  all  over  the  Western  frontier,  gave 
sombre  color  to  the  statement.  The  few  ladies  of  the 
— th  who  had  come  to  Russell  for  the  summer  were 
hardly  settled  in  their  new  quarters  when  the  regiment 
was  hurried  away,  and  from  one  house  to  another  had 
h  10* 


.      114  MARION'S  FAITH. 

Mrs.  Whaling  flitted,  a  substantial  and  seemingly  well- 
fed  matron  in  appearance,  and  one  whose  eccentricities 
of  costume  and  toilet  were  attributable,  no  doubt,  to  a 
largeness  of  nature,  which  rendered  all  care  for  personal 
appearance  subordinate  to  the  claims  of  afflicted  hu 
manity.  All  the  ladies  had  gracefully  accepted  her 
proffered  sympathy,  and  some  had  warmly  thanked 
her  for  the  well-meant  attentions ;  but  Mrs.  Turner 
was  completely  nonplussed  by  the  good  lady's  offer  to 
come  and  pray  with  her,  and  it  must  be  allowed  that 
Mrs.  Whaling's  visit  of  condolence  had  been  produc 
tive  of  far  more  comfort  to  Mrs.  Turner  than  was  ex 
pected, — and  in  a  far  different  way ;  for  that  volatile 
young  matron  rushed  in  upon  Mrs.  Stannard  late  in 
the  afternoon,  choking  with  laughter,  to  describe  her 
sensations  in  striving  to  be  proper  and  decorous  until 
the  venerable  black  silk  had  whisked  itself  off  out  of 
hearing.  Three  days  after  the  — th  had  gone  the  band 
arrived  from  Hays.  Mr.  Billings  had  spent  two  days 
at  the  post  in  seeing  his  men  comfortably  established 
and  in  turning  over  property  to  the  infantry  officer  des 
ignated  to  be  post  adjutant,  and  then  he  had  taken  stage 
to  Laramie  and  gone  in  chase.  That  evening,  after  the 
band  had  played  delightfully  an  hour  or  two  on  the 
parade,  the  officers  suggested  an  informal  dance ;  their 
own  ladies  went  readily,  and  Mrs.  Turner  decided  to  go 
and  see  the  hop-room,  and  once  there  it  seemed  so  poky 
to  come  away  without  a  waltz  or  two.  "  The  floor  was 
lovely,  so  much  better  than  ours  at  Hays,  and  really, 
several  of  the  garrison  officers  danced  remarkably  well." 
So  we  infer  Mrs.  Turner  had  satisfied  herself  by  per 
sonal  experiment  on  that  score.  Very  properly,  the 


AT  RUSSELL.  115 

informal  hops  became  regular  features  of  the  garrison 
life,  and  several  ladies  of  the  — th,  "  grass-widowed" 
for  the  summer,  were  speedily  induced  to  join  in  these 
modulated  gayeties.  What  with  the  band,  the  influx  of 
some  half  a  dozen  new  ladies,  and  the  constant  arrival 
of  officers  en  route  to  the  front,  the  garrison  not  un 
naturally  remarked  that  Russell  was  jollier  now  that 
the  — th  had  gone  than  it  was  before. 

And  now  Mrs.  Truscott  and  the  very  interesting 
Miss  Sanford  were  coming.  This  was  indeed  news ! 
They  were  to  take  quarters  next  to  the  Stannards,  and 
be  Mrs.  Stannard's  guests  until  the  furniture  arrived 
and  all  was  made  ready  for  them.  Truscott's  troop, 
with  Webb's,  was  coming  along  by  rail  fast  as  they 
could  travel  in  the  heavy  freight-trains  to  which  they 
were  assigned,  and  the  ladies,  Mrs.  Webb  included, 
were  being  escorted  on  the  express  direct  to  Cheyenne 
by  Lieutenant  Gleason,  who  had  joined  the  party  as 
they  passed  through  Kansas  City,  and  who  had,  doubt 
less,  made  himself  especially  agreeable  to  the  young  and 
lovely  Mrs.  Truscott,  of  whom  he  had  heard  so  much, 
and  to  her  friend,  the  heiress  from  New  Jersey.  These 
were  details  of  which  Mrs.  Turner  was  in  ignorance 
when  she  came  in  to  surprise  Mrs.  Stannard  with  the 
news,  and,  after  her  first  astonishment,  Mrs.  Turner's 
sensations  were  not  those  of  unmixeql  delight.  A  whole 
day,  it  seemed,  had  the  major's  wife  been  in  possession 
of  the  tidings  and  had  not  imparted  them  to  her.  This 
was  indicative  of  one  of  two  things  :  either  Mrs.  Stan 
nard  was  so  reticent  that  she  did  not  care  to  tell  any 
body,  or  else  she  had  told  others  and  kept  it  from  her, — 
from  her  who  believed  that  she  had  made  a  most  favor- 


116  MARION'S  FAITH. 

able  impression  on  this  charming  and  popular  lady  of 
whom  all  men  and  most  women  spoke  so  admiringly. 
Mrs.  Turner's  face  betrayed  her  mental  perturbation, 
and  Mrs.  Stannard  was  quick  to  divine  the  cause.  In 
genuine  kindness  of  heart  she  came  promptly  to  the 
relief  of  her  pretty  friend.  Without  being  in  the  least 
blind  to  her  frivolities,  Mrs.  Stannard  saw  much  that 
was  attractive  and  pleasant  in  Mrs.  Turner.  She  was 
vastly  entertained  by  her,  and  enjoyed  studying  her  as 
she  would  a  graceful  statue  or  a  finished  picture.  Be 
neath  the  surface  she  had  no  desire  to  penetrate.  Warm 
friends  and  loving  friends  she  had  in  troops,  and  women 
of  Mrs.  Turner's  mental  calibre  were  sources  of  infinite, 
though  quiet,  entertainment.  She  enjoyed  their  pres 
ence,  was  cordial,  kindly,  even  laughingly  familiar,  yet 
always  guarded.  Mrs.  Stamiard's  most  pronounced 
characteristic  was  consummate  discretion.  She  knew 
whom  to  trust,  and  others  might  labor  in  vain  to  ex 
tract  from  her  the  faintest  hint  that,  repeated  carelessly 
or  maliciously,  would  wound  or  injure  a  friend. 

But  here  was  a  thing  all  the  world  might  know. 
Truscott's  telegram  had  reached  her  the  evening  before, 
saying  that  the  three  ladies,  escorted  by  Lieutenant 
Gleason,  would  arrive  at  such  a  time,  and  that  Mrs. 
Truscott  and  Miss  San  ford  would  gladly  accept  her 
offer.  The  average  woman  could  hardly  restrain  her 
self  from  going  out  and  seeking  some  one  to  whom  to 
tell  the  interesting  news.  Few  pleasures  in  life  are 
keener  than  the  bliss  of  being  able  to  convey  unexpected 
tidings, — when  they  are  welcome, — but  Mrs.  Stannard 
knew  that  the  ladies  of  the  regiment  with  whom  she 
felt  at  all  intimate  were  over  at  the  hop-room.  She  had 


AT  RUSSELL.  117 

all  a  woman's  eagerness  to  tell  the  news,  but — she  was 
loyal  to  the  — th,  and  would  not  even  in  so  little  a  thing 
let  others  be  the  bearers.  That  Mrs.  Stannard  was  a 
woman  capable  of  deeds  of  heroism  we  deduce  from 
the  simple  fact  that  she  went  to  bed  that  night  without 
having  breathed  the  story  to  a  soul.  She  had  a  strong 
impulse  to  tell  her  cook  and  housemaid, — old  and  reli 
able  followers  of  her  fortunes, — but  she  well  knew  that 
those  amiable  domestics  would  be  clattering  up  and 
down  the  back  yards  all  the  evening,  and  the  news 
would  surprise  nobody  when  she  came  to  tell  it  next 
day.  She  was  too  true  a  woman  to  want  to  part  with 
such  a  pleasure.  Then  she  had — ah  !  must  it  be  con 
fessed  ? — a  little  mischievous  desire  of  her  own  to  see 
how  Mrs.  Turner  would  take  it,  for  those  who  knew 
Mrs.  Turner  best  were  given  to  the  belief  that  she 
would  far  rather  have  the  attention  of  the  masculine 
element  of  the  garrison  concentrated  upon  herself  than 
shared  with  such  undoubted  rivals  as  these  would  be ; 
and  so,  with  perfect  truth,  Mrs.  Stannard's  reassurance 
took  the  form  of  these  words  : 

"  You  see  I  could  not  make  up  my  mind  to  let  any 
one  know  until  I  had  told  you,  and  I've  been  ex 
pecting  you  all  the  morning/' — and  Mrs.  Turner  was 
charmed.  "  But,"  said  Mrs.  Stannard,  "  tell  me  how 
you  heard  it.  I  thought  no  one  knew  it  but  myself." 

"  Oh  !  Mr.  Gleason  telegraphed  as  a  matter  of  course, 
to  announce  that  he  was  escorting  these  ladies.  It  was 
quite  a  feather  in  his  cap  to  be  able  to  show  the  com 
manding  officer  here  that  Captain  Truscott  intrusts  to 
him  the  duty  of  guarding  anything  so  precious.  When 
you  get  +o  know  Mr.  Gleason  better  you'll  appreciate 


118  MARION'S  FAITH 

that,"  said  Mrs.  Turner,  with  a  pout.  "Captain  Tur 
ner  can't  bear  him,  and  dislikes  to  have  me  notice  him 
at  all ;  and  what  I  wonder  at  is  his  escorting  them. 
Why  is  he  not  with  his  company  ?  And  where  is  Mr. 
Ray  ?  If  the  board  has  adjourned,  I  should  suppose 
that  Mr.  Gleason  would'  be  on  duty  with  his  men, — he 
is  Truscott's  first  lieutenant,  you  know, — and  that  Mr. 
Ray  would  be  rushing  through  to  catch  his  company. 
Why  isn't  he  escorting  them  I  wonder  ?  Perhaps  Cap 
tain  Truscott  had  reasons  of  his  own  for  not  permitting 
that, — Ray  was  smitten  with  her,  I  don't  care  what 
Mrs.  Raymond  says.  Have  you  heard  where  Mr.  Ray 
is?" 

"  Not  a  word.  I  wish  I  knew/'  said  Mrs.  Stannard, 
wistfully. 

"Have  you — have  you  heard  anything  about  his 
being  in  any  trouble,  in  anything  likely  to  keep  him 
from  going  with  the  regiment  ?"  asked  Mrs.  Turner, 
hesitatingly,  yet  watching  closely  Mrs.  Stannard's  face. 

"  Nothing  in  the  least  that  is  anything  more  than  a 
very  improbable  story,  and  one  that  I  have  too  little 
faith  in  to  repeat.  Tell  me  what  news  you  have  from 
the  captain."  And  Mrs.  Turner  knew  'twas  useless  to 
ask  questions.  She  hurried  through  her"  visit,  and 
tripped  eagerly  away  up  the  row  to  carry  the  news 
throughout  the  garrison,  meeting  Mrs.  Whaling  com 
ing  down,  and  the  latter  had  the  start. 

And  so,  before  the  setting  of  a  second  sun,  Grace 
Truscott  was  once  more  in  garrison,  and  Miss  Sanford, 
with  quietly  observant  eyes,  was  forming  her  first  im 
pressions  of  army  life  in  the  far  West,  and  welcoming 
with  sweet  and  gracious  manner  the  ladies,  who  could 


AT  RUSSELL.  119 

not  resist  their  hospitable  impulse  to  gather  oil  Mrs. 
Stannard's  piazza  and  greet  the  new-comers  as  soon  as 
they  had  removed  the  dust  and  cinders  of  railway 
travel,  and  in  the  bewildering  freshness  of  their  New 
York  costumes  reappeared  on  the  parlor  floor. 

That  evening,  of  course,  they  held  quite  a  levee. 
The  band  played  delightfully  upon  the  parade,  welcom 
ing  back  to  the  frontier  the  colonel's  daughter,  and 
wishing,  many  of  them,  that  old  Catnip,  too,  had  come, 
for  he  was  very  thoughtful  and  kind  to  his  men,  and 
they  were  realizing  that  it  is  no  fun  to  be  musicians  for 
somebody  else's  regiment.  Many  officers  and  ladies 
called,  and  Mrs.  Stannard's  pleasant  parlor  was  filled 
from  early  until  late.  One  man  appeared  there  before 
anybody  else,  accepted  an  invitation  to  join  them  at 
dinner  and  stayed  until  after  eleven :  this  was  Mr. 
Gleason. 

The  sunshine  of  Mrs.  Stannard's  bonny  face  was 
something  the  — th  were  prone  to  speak  of  very  often, 
perhaps  too  often  to  suit  other  ladies,  whose  visages  on 
the  domestic  side  were  not  infrequently  clouded.  Just 
as  it  is  an  unsafe  thing  to  speak  in  presence  of  some 
mothers  of  the  grace  or  beauty  or  behavior  of  other 
children  than  their  own,  so  it  is  simply  idiotic  to  talk 
of  Mrs.  So-and-so's  sweet  manners  or  sweeter  face  to 
Mrs.  Vinaigre,  who  is  said,  at  times,  to  be  snappish. 
It  may  be  far  from  your  intention  to  institute  compari 
sons  or  to  refer,  by  inference,  to  graces  which  are 
lacking  in  the  lady  to  whom  you  speak,  but  there  is 
nothing  surer  in  life  than  that  you  get  the  credit  of  it 
in  the  fullest  sense,  and  that,  most  unwittingly,  you 
have  affronted  a  woman  in  a  way  the  meekest  Christian 


120  MARION'S  FAITH. 

of  her  sex  will  find  it  hard  to  forgive ;  she  will  never 
forget  it.  Mrs.  Stannard's  smile  was  sweetness  itself; 
her  eyes  smiled  quite  as  much  as  her  mouth,  and  her 
very  soul  seemed  to  beam  through  the  winsome,  win 
ning  beauty  of  her  face.  All  the  young  officers  looked 
up  to  her  with  something  akin  to  worship;  all  the 
elders  spoke  of  Mrs.  Stannard  as  the  perfection  of  an 
army  wife ;  even  her  closest  friends  and  acquaintances 
could  find  no  one  trait  to  speak  of  openly  as  a  fault. 
The  nearest  approach  to  such  a  thing  was  Mrs.  Tur 
ner's  exasperated  and  petulant  outbreak  when  her  pa 
tient  lord  had  ventured,  in  presence  of  several  of  her 
coterie,  to  speak  once  too  often  of  that  lovely  smile. 
"  Merciful  powers !  Captain  Turner.  Any  woman 
with  Mrs.  Stannard's  teeth  could  afford  to  smile  from 
morning  till  night ;  but  it's  all  teeth  !"  But  even  Mrs. 
Turner  knew  better.  It  was  a  smile  born  of  genuine 
goodness,  of  charity,  of  loving-kindness,  and  of  a 
spiritual  grace  that  made  Mrs.  Stannard  marked  among 
her  associates.  In  all  the  regiment  no  woman  was  so 
looked  up  to  and  loved  as  she. 

Grace  Truscott  had  known  her  well  by  reputation, 
though  this  was  their  first  meeting.  It  seemed  not  a 
little  strange  to  Miss  Sanford  that  they  should  be  going 
thus  suddenly  and  unceremoniously  to  be  the  guests  of 
a  lady  whom  neither  of  them  had  ever  seen,  but  "  'tis  the 
way  we  have  in  the  Army,"  was  the  laughing  response 
when  she  ventured  to  speak  of  it,  and  any  hesitancy  or 
embarrassment  she  might  have  felt  vanished  at  the  in 
stant  when  their  hostess  appeared  on  the  piazza  and 
both  her  hands  were  outstretched  in  welcome.  "  Did 
you  ever  see  a  lovelier  expression  in  a  woman's  face  ?" 


AT  RUSSELL. 

was  her  first  impulsive  exclamation  when  she  and 
Grace  were  shown  to  their  rooms.  Yet,  once  her  guests 
were  up-stairs  and  out  of  the  way,  Mrs.  Stannard's 
brow  clouded  not  a  little  as  she  descended  to  the  piazza, 
where  she  had  left  Mr.  Gleason  superintending  the  un 
loading  of  trunks,  boxes,  and  other  baggage,  and  giving 
directions  about  the  distribution  of  this  thing  or  that 
quite  as  though  "  one  of  the  family."  She  had  never 
liked  him ;  the  major  cordially  hated  him ;  she  knew 
that  Captain  Truscott  could  not  possibly  feel  any  friend 
ship  for  such  a  man,  and  yet  here  he  was,  the  escort 
of  Mrs.  Truscott  and  Miss  Sanford  on  their  journey. 
They  were  her  guests,  and  therefore  she  had  to  be 
unusually  civil  to  him.  One  or  two  officers  came  up  to 
speak  to  him  as  he  stood  at  the  little  gate,  and  the  post 
adjutant  invited  him  to  send  his  traps  to  his  quarters, 
where  a  room  was  ready.  Gleason  looked  around  at 
Mrs.  Stannard  and  remarked,  "  Well,  I'm  much  obliged, 
but  you  see  I'm  rather  bound  as  yet  to  our  ladies,"  and 
plainly  intimated  that  he  hoped  Mrs.  Stannard  would 
offer  him  the  spare  room  on  the  parlor  floor,  but  Mrs. 
Stannard  did  nothing  of  the  kind ;  and,  not  very  grace 
fully,  he  availed  himself  of  the  young  infantryman's 
courtesy.  The  baggage  was  all  in  by  this  time,  and 
there  was  no  need  of  his  prolonging  his  stay.  Mrs. 
Stannard,  of  course,  announced  that  they  expected  the 
pleasure  of  his  company  at  dinner  at  six,  and  asked 
him  to  come  in  and  rest,  unless  he  preferred  to  go  at 
once  and  dress.  Gleason  concluded  it  best  to  go,  but, 
in  the  hearing  and  presence  of  the  garrison  officers  who 
were  standing  near,  begged  Mrs.  Stannard  to  explain 
to  the  ladies  that  he  had  to  report  to  the  commanding 
F  11 


122  MARION'S  FAITH. 

officer,  and  would  she  please  say  to  Miss  San  ford  that 
he  would  call  at  five  ? 

What  could  that  mean  ?  was  Mrs.  Stannard's  vexed 
inquiry  of  her  inner  consciousness.  Was  the  widower 
bent  on  making  the  most  of  his  time  in  an  endeavor  to 
fascinate  the  Eastern  belle?  The  ladies  were  hardly 
dressed  when  he  reappeared,  and  was  urging  Miss  San- 
ford  to  come  out  with  him  for  a  brief  stroll  to  see  the 
mountain  prairie  and  take  a  whiff  of  Wyoming  breezes, 
when  the  appearance  of  Mrs.  Turner  and  others  (who 
had  just  happened  by,  but  hearing  their  voices  could 
not  resist  rushing  in  to  welcome  Mrs.  Truscott,  etc., 
etc.)  put  an  end  to  the  possibility.  It  was  a  comfort 
to  note  that  though  perfectly  courteous  and  pleasant  in 
her  manner,  even  to  the  extent  of  that  indefinable  yet 
perceptible  half  intimacy  which  exists  between  travel 
ling  companions,  Miss  San  ford  seemed  in  no  wise  en 
couraging  and  by  no  means  displeased  at  the  interruption 
to  the  plan  so  audaciously  proposed.  At  dinner  Mr. 
Gleason  sat  opposite  the  young  lady,  and  was,  therefore, 
obliged  to  talk  much  with  Mrs.  Stannard.  After  din 
ner  he  promptly  established  himself  by  Miss  San  ford's 
side,  showing  her  albums  full  of  photographs  of  the 
officers, — a  collection  the  major  and  his  wife  had  been 
making  for  years,  and  one  in  which  they  took  great 
delight.  Gleason  knew  most  of  them,  and  it  enabled 
him  to  be  very  entertaining,  as  he  could  tell  some  anec 
dote  or  incident  connected  with  so  many,  but  the  early 
coming  of  visitors  broke  in  upon  his  monopoly,  yet 
could  not  wholly  drive  him  from  her  side.  It  was  ob 
served  by  every  man  and  woman  who  came  in  that 
evening  how  assiduous  was  Gleason  in  his  attentions. 


AT  RUSSELL.  123 

More  than  that,  there  was  something  about  them  that 
can  best  be  described  by  the  word  possessive.  It  seemed 
as  though  he  had  studied  the  art  of  behaving  as  though 
he  felt  that  every  look  and  word  was  welcome  to  her. 
Mrs.  Stannard  was  secretly  exasperated ;  Mrs.  Truscott, 
who  knew  nothing  of  him  until  their  westward  journey, 
was  only  vaguely  annoyed,  but  no  one  could  tell  from 
her  manner  what  Miss  Sanford  thought. 

It  was  after  eleven  when  the  last  of  the  visitors  with 
drew,  and  still  he  lingered.  Once  more  Miss  Sanford 
stood  by  the  centre-table  and  bent  over  one  of  the  al 
bums.  She  turned  rapidly  over  the  pages  until  she 
reached  a  cabinet  picture  of  a  dark-eyed,  dark-haired, 
trim-built  young  officer  in  cavalry  undress  uniform. 

"  You  did  not  tell  me  who  this  was,  Mr.  Gleason." 

"  That?  Oh  !  That  is  Mr.  Ray  of  our  regiment/' 
was  the  reply,  in  a  tone  lack-lustre  of  all  interest. 

"  Mr.  Ray  ?  "Where  ?  Let  me  see,"  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Truscott,  coming  quickly  to  them.  "  Oh,  isn't  that 
perfect  ?  When  did  you  get  it,  Mrs.  Stannard  ?  How 
mean  of  him  not  to  send  us  one !" 

"It  was  taken  in  Denver  this  spring/'  said  Mrs. 
Stannard.  "  The  major  says  it's  the  only  picture  he  has 
ever  seen  of  Mr.  Ray,  and  it  is  as  good  as  one  can  be 
that  doesn't  represent  him  in  the  saddle.  You  know 
we  think  him  the  best  riier  in  the  — th, — we  ladies,  that 
is/'  she  added,  knowing  this  to  be  one  of  Gleason's 
weak  points.  Mr.  Gleason  made  no  remark. 

"  What  became  of  the  other  members  of  the  board, 
Mr.  Gleason  ?"  she  continued.  "  I  expected  to  see 
Captain  Buxton  and  Mr.  Ray." 

"  Oh,  they  gave  us  all  ten  days'  delay  in  joining  so 


124  MARION'S  FAITH. 

as  to  say  good-by  to  friends,  you  know.  Buxton  stopped 
to  see  his  wife's  family  at  Leavenworth,  but  he'll  be 
through  here  in  a  day  or  two."  Then  came  a  pause. 

"  And  where  is  Mr.  Ray  ?  I  supposed  that  he  would 
be  off  like  a  shot." 

There  was  an  unmistakable  sneer  on  Mr.  Glea^bn's 
face,  though  the  reply  was  vague  and  hesitating. 

"  Yes,  Ray  made  no  end  of  fuss  about  getting  off — 
until  the  orders  came ;  since  then  I  haven't  heard  much 
— that  is,  I  haven't  seen  anything  of  him." 

"  He  couldn't  well  get  to  the  regiment  without  going 
through  here,  could  he  ?" 

"  No ;  but  he  hasn't  gone,  and  he  won't  be  going  in 
any  great  hurry." 

It  was  evident  to  Mrs.  Stannard  that  Gleason  was 
striving  to  be  questioned.  Whatever  he  knew  he  was 
ready  to  tell,  provided  some  one  would  ask.  Mrs. 
Truscott  and  Miss  Sanford  stood  silently  by,  still  look 
ing  at  the  photograph,  when  Mrs.  Stannard  again  spoke. 

"  Well,  Mr.  Ray  was  never  behind  in  any  previous 
campaign,  and  I'll  venture  to  predict  he  isn't  far  behind 
now.  Now,  Mr.  Gleason,  I'm  going  to  send  you  home, 
for  these  ladies  are  tired  out  with  their  long  journey." 

He  would  fain  have  put  in  another  word  about  Ray, 
but  she  was  vigilant  and  checked  him.  He  hoped  for 
an  invitation  to  breakfast,  but  it  did  not  come.  He 
plead  with  languishing  eyes  for  a  few  moments  more 
at  the  side  of  the  lady  he  desired  to  fascinate,  but  Miss 
Sanford  was  still  looking  at  the  photographs  and  would 
not  return  his  glance.  Go  he  had  to,  and  it  was  plain 
to  him  that  in  striving  to  belittle  Ray  he  had  damaged 
his  own  cause.  It  made  him  bitterer  still  as  he  strode 


RAY  TO    THE  FRONT.  125 

through  the  darkness  down  to  the  beacon-lights  of  the 
store.  Gleason  drank  more  and  talked  more  before  he 
went  to  bed  than  was  good  for  him ;  but  no  seed  is 
so  easily  sown  as  that  of  slander. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

KAY  TO  THE   FRONT. 

IT  has  been  said  that  Major  Stannard  told  his  wife 
that  he  proposed  going  down  to  camp,  hunting  up  Mr. 
Wilkins,  and  getting  from  him  "  flat- footed"  the 
authority  he  had  for  his  insinuations  at  Mr.  Ray's  ex 
pense  the  day  before  the  regiment  marched  for  the 
Black  Hills.  The  major  went  as  he  proposed ;  but  at 
the  very  moment  he  reached  camp  the  object  of  his 
search  was  unpacking  Mrs.  Wilkins's  trunks  up  in  the 
garrison.  Stannard  left  word  with  the  officer  of  the 
day  that  he  wanted  to  see  Mr.  Wilkins  on  important 
business  right  after  "  retreat"  (sunset)  roll-call ;  and 
Wilkins  was  quick  to  divine  that  the  major  had  already 
heard  of  his  morning's  mischief  at  the  store.  He  stood 
in  awe  of  the  battalion  commander,  and  knew  well  that 
when  it  came  to  a  face  to  face  encounter  with  him  there 
could  be  no  dodging.  He  must  swallow  his  words  or 
give  his  authority.  Wilkins,  therefore,  had  impor 
tant  business  of  his  own  or  his  able  wife's  devising 
which  kept  him  from  going  to  camp  during  the  even 
ing,  and  Stannard,  being  only  the  major,  could  not 

11* 


126  MARION'S  FAITH. 

order  him  thither  in  the  face  of  the  colonel's  permis 
sion  to  be  absent.  He  trudged  back  across  the  prairie 
in  no  amiable  mood,  therefore,  and  swore  in  stalwart 
Anglo-Saxon  to  Captain  Merrill  that  he  would  bring 
Wilkins  to  the  scratch  if  he  had  to  go  to  his  quarters 
to  do  it.  They  looked  in  at  the  store,  and  Wilkins 
wasn't  there,  so  together  they  walked  up  the' row  until 
they  came  to  the  cottage  into  which  the  lares  and  pe- 
nates  of  the  Wilkins  family  had  so  recently  been  car 
ried,  and  Mrs.  Wilkins  herself  met  them  at  the  door. 
She  was  afraid  of  nobody,  and  had  doubtless  been  re 
quested  (he  never  directed)  by  her  husband  to  see  who 
was  knocking.  Now  Mrs.  Wilkins  was  as  fond  of 
Major  Stannard  as  her  husband  was  afraid  of  him. 
She  liked  his  blunt,  sturdy,  unaffected  ways,  and  many 
a  time  and  oft  she  had  held  him  up  to  her  submissive 
lord  as  the  sort  of  soldier  he  ought  to  be.  She  knew 
nothing  of  the  affair  at  the  store  as  yet,  and  Wilkins 
was  afraid  to  tell  her.  With  her  keen  insight  she  had 
long  since  discovered  that  her  husband's  associates  and 
intimates  in  the  regiment  were  not  the  strong  or  the 
good  men,  and  she  had  warned  him  at  Sandy  that 
whatever  he  might  have  against  such  men  as  Truscott 
or  Eay,  he  had  better  stamp  it  out  and  seek  to  re-estab 
lish  himself  in  their  good  opinion.  Such  men  as  Glea- 
son,  with  whom  he  consorted,  would  soon  get  him  into 
trouble.  Poor  Wilkins  heard  the  major's  blunt  salu 
tation  at  the  door  and  his  Avife's  cordial  invitation  to 
walk  in;  but  the  major  declined  with  thanks.  "Ask 
Mr.  Wilkins  to  come  out  here  on  the  piazza,  please ;  I 
want  to  see  him  on  business,"  was  his  request;  and 
when  Mrs.  Wilkins  came  puffing  up-stairs  supplement- 


RAY  TO    THE  FRONT.  127 

ing  the  message  with  a  "Hurry  now;  the  major  isn't 
the  man  for  you  to  keep  waiting,"  the  hapless  veteran 
wished  himself  anywhere  out  of  Wyoming ;  but  down 
he  went  with  rather  a  hang-dog  look.  Stannard  had 
met  him  with  unexpected  kindness  of  manner.  "  I'm 
worried  about  the  story  told  of  Ray,  Mr.  Wilkins,  and 
I've  come  to  get  the  authority  from  you.  Of  course 
you  must  have  had  something  to  base  such  statements 
upon,"  and  being  fairly  cornered,  Wilkins  said  his  in 
formant  was  Gleason.  Being  asked  to  show  the  letter, 
Wilkins  declared  that  he  had  burned  it,  and  would 
never  have  alluded  to  it  but  for  Blake's  manner,  which 
he  declared  had  goaded  him  into  the  remarks.  Then 
he  told  Stannard  that  Gleason  wrote  in  so  many  words 
that  Ray  was  with  Rallston  night  and  day,  and  inti 
mated  that  the  latter  kept  him  at  cards  and  wine  most 
of  the  time,  and  that  if  some  scandal  did  not  result 
when  it  came  to  paying  for  the  horses  he  would  be  sur 
prised.  Still,  he  could  not  quote  the  language  ;  but  he 
gave  his  impressions.  Stannard  had  called  Merrill  to 
witness  the  statement;  then,  giving  Wilkins  injunc 
tions  to  say  nothing  more  to  anybody  on  the  subject, 
and  pledging  Merrill  to  reticence,  he  had  gone  home, 
written  brief  and  hurried  letters  to  Ray  and  to  Glea 
son,  told  his  wife  that  he  had  heard  the  stories,  and 
that  until  Ray  had  a  chance  to  explain  would  regard 
them  as  baseless  rumors,  or  at  the  worst  as  exaggera 
tions,  for  which  Gleason  was  responsible ;  then  he  had 
slept  the  sleep  of  the  just  until  the  corporal  of  the 
guard  came  banging  at  the  door  at  four  A.M.  to  say  the 
reveille  had  sounded  out  in  camp.  Two  hours  later  he 
had  jogged  away  at  the  head  of  his  battalion. 


128  MARION'S  FAITH. 

Mr.  Gleason's  complacent  acceptance  of  her  reluctant 
invitation,  and  his  evident  expectation  of  more  to  come, 
were  matters  that  therefore  annoyed  Mrs.  Stannard  not 
a  little.  She  knew  well  that  her  husband  had  written 
him  an  angry  letter,  demanding  that  he  either  withdraw 
or  substantiate  the  allegations  he  had  made  at  the  ex 
pense  of  Mr.  Ray,  but  she  had  not  been  told  what 
those  allegations  were.  She  felt  certain  that  the  letter 
had  reached  Mr.  Gleason,  for  it  was  sent  to  the  care  of 
the  commanding  officer  at  Hays,  yet  here  was  the  lieu 
tenant  himself,  beaming  with  effusive  cordiality.  She 
felt  more  than  certain  that  were  "  Luce"  at  the  post 
Mr.  Gleason  would  by  no  means  be  seeking  to  make 
himself  at  home  in  his  quarters,  but  Luce  with  the 
eight  companies  of  the  — th  was  out  of  reach.  Gleason 
was  striving  to  make  himself  at  home  with  her  and  her 
guests,  and,  as  far  as  the  latter  were,  concerned,  he  had 
the  sanction  and  apparent  approval  of  Captain  Trus- 
cott,  whose  name  he  incessantly  quoted,  as  though  the 
terms  of  intimacy  between  them  were  already  estab 
lished  beyond  perad venture. 

"  Truscott  paid  me  one  of  the  highest  compliments  I 
ever  remember  having  received,"  said  Mr.  Gleason  to 
the  three  ladies  at  dinner,  and  Mr.  Gleason  was  a  man 
who  was  always  receiving  compliments  of  one  kind  or 
another,  if  one  could  accept  his  statements.  "  He  said 
that  he  had  never  seen  the  troop  look  so  well  as  when 
I  turned  it  over  to  him  at  Wallace."  Now,  as  he  had 
arrived  at  Wallace  on  the  same  train  with  the  Trus- 
cotts,  and  did  not "  turn  over"  anything  connected  with 
the  troop  but  the  property  returns,  anybody  acquainted 
with  such  matters  would  have  known  that  Truscott's 


RA  Y  TO    THE  FRONT.  129 

commendation,  if  bestowed  at  all,  was  probably  given 
to  the  junior  lieutenant,  who  had  put  the  troop  in 
handsome  shape  during  the  absence  of  Mr.  Gleason  on 
the  horse  board ;  but  what  Gleason  aimed  at  was  to 
make  an  impression  on  Miss  Sanford's  mind,  since  she 
could  not  be  expected  to  know  the  intricacies  of  such 
matters.  Mrs.  Stannard  would  have  been  glad  to  cor 
rect  the  impression,  but  could  not  in  courtesy  to  her 
guests,  and  so  she  remained  silent.  She  meant,  how 
ever,  to  discourage  his  visits  in  future,  but  he  was  too 
old  a  practitioner  for  her  simple  methods.  She  had 
slipped  into  the  kitchen  to  see  how  nice  a  breakfast  was 
being  prepared  for  her  guests  the  following  morning, 
and  in  that  brief  absence  he  had  appeared  at  the  open 
door-way  to  urge  the  ladies  to  come  out  and  see  guard 
mounting.  They  were  just  down  ;  the  air  was  delicious 
out  on  the  piazza,  the  band  was  inspiring;  so  what 
more  natural  than  that  Mrs.  Truscott  and  Miss  Sanford 
should  make  their  first  appearance  that  morning  escorted 
by  the  obnoxious  Gleason  ?  When  Mrs.  Stannard  came 
back  from  the  kitchen  they  were  all  on  the  piazza,  and 
others  were  strolling  up  the  walk  to  join  them.  After 
the  spirited  little  parade  was  over  and  the  infantry 
officers  had  to  go  to  the  presence  of  their  commander, 
Gleason  lingered.  He  had  no  duties  as  yet,  and — how 
could  she  avoid  it,  ladies  ? — Mrs.  Stannard  had  to  ask 
him  if  he  had  breakfasted  when  the  maid  came  to  an 
nounce  that  breakfast  was  served.  He  had  ;  but  it  was 
easy  for  Gleason  to  say  that  he  had  merely  sipped  a  cup 
of  coffee  and  to  insure  the  invitation  he  intended  to 
extract.  After  breakfast  she  had  her  household  duties 
to  attend  to,  Mrs.  Truscott  had  unpacking  and  other 


130  MARION'S  FAITH. 

matters  to  look  after.  Miss  Sanford  felt  that  some  one 
ought  to  entertain  their  late  escort,  and  the  duty  fell  to 
her.  Garrison  people  who  called  that  morning  were 
edified  by  finding  Mr.  Gleason  and  Miss  Sanford  ttte- 
ci-tete  in  the  parlor  despite  Mrs.  Stannard's  efforts. 
Mrs.  Turner  was  promptly  on  hand,  so  were  other 
ladies,  and  that  they  made  certain  inferences  at  the 
time,  and  compared  notes  later  in  the  day,  is,  perhaps, 
supererogation  to  state. 

On  one  pretext  or  another  there  was  not  an  hour 
during  that  morning  in  which  Mr.  Gleason  failed  to 
appear  at  Major  Stannard's  quarters,  and  by  two  P.M., 
at  which  hour  there  was  a  gathering  at  the  adjutant's 
office  to  await  the  distribution  of  the  mail,  it  is  not 
to  be  wondered  at  that  one  of  Colonel  Whaling's  officers 
remarked  to  another  that  the  cavalry  seemed  to  have 
the  inside  track,  if  there  was  to  be  any  race  for  the 
Jersey  belle,  and  that  others  looked  knowing  when 
Gleason  appeared  to  inquire  if  any  letters  had  come  for 
the  ladies  at  Major  Stannard's.  There  was  no  neces 
sity  whatever  for  his  going,  Mrs.  Stannard  protested. 
The  orderly  would  bring  the  mail  in  five  minutes  if 
anything  had  come ;  but  Gleason  said  that  the  orderly 
would  have  to  stop  in  two  or  three  houses  before  he  got 
there,  and  he  knew  Mrs.  Truscott  was  impatient, — and 
so  she  was.  In  a  minute  he  was  back  with  letters  for  all 
three,  but  Miss  Sanford's  was  a  mere  note  in  reply  to 
an  order  she  had  sent  East,  and  while  Mrs.  Stannard 
and  Mrs.  Truscott  retired  to  read  the  long  letters  that 
had  come  from  their  respective  lords,  once  more  Miss 
Sanford  found  herself  entertaining  the  assiduous  Gleason, 
She  wras  beginning  to  think  army  life  distasteful. 


RAY   TO    THE   FRONT.  131 

Determined  to  break  up  this  monopoly,  the  major's 
wife  came  speedily  again  to  the  parlor.  Something 
she  had  read  in  her  husband's  letter  had  fired  her  with 
resentment  against  Gleason  and  nerved  her  to  resolute 
measures.  "  Not  a  word  of  reply  have  I  had  from 
Kay,"  wrote  Stannard,  "  nor  has  Gleason  yet  answered, 
though  I  know  the  letter  was  delivered  to  him.  In 
conversation  with  Billings  last  night  he  admitted  that 
he,  too,  had  heard  that  Ray  had  been  playing  fast  and 
loose  at  Kansas  City,  and  when  I  asked  him  how  it 
was  brought  to  him,  he  replied  that  Wayne  told  him, 
and  Wayne  had  a  letter  from  Gleason.  I  wish  Billings 
and  Kay  could  have  seen  more  of  each  other  this  spring ; 
there  is  some  feeling  between  them  which  I  cannot 
fathom  and  do  not  understand.  It  will  disappear  when 
Kay  joins  us,  for  Billings  cannot  help  admiring  his 
energy  and  usefulness  in  actual  campaign.  As  yet 
nothing  of  great  interest  has  occurred,  but  everything 
points  to  wild  excitement  at  the  reservations.  We  are 
camping  to-night  at  the  Cardinal's  Chair  up  on  the  Nio- 
brara,  and  march  northward  to-morrow  by  way  of  Old 
Woman  Fork  to  the  Mini  Pusa.  General  Sheridan's 
orders  are  to  hide  in  the  valley  of  the  South  Cheyenne, 
and  keep  a  sharp  watch  on  the  trails  crossing  northwest 
ward,  and  be  ready  to  strike  any  and  all  parties  of  hos- 
tiles  going  up  from  the  reservations  on  White  Kiver. 
Of  course  here  will  be  sharp  work.  We  have  had  two 
rushes  already,  for  the  Sioux  have  war-parties  out  rob 
bing  stock  and  running  off  horses  from  far  south  of 
the  Platte,  and  a  big  band  swept  down  the  Chug  Water 
within  forty-five  miles  of  you  the  very  day  we  left 
Lodge  Pole.  '  K'  went  forward  in  pursuit,  but  they 


132  MARION'S  FAITH. 

had  too  big  a  start.  This  letter  goes  by  courier  to 
Laramie  to-night.  Expect  nothing  more  now  for  a 
week,  as  even  the  Black  Hills  stages  have  quit  run 
ning.  The  Indians  have  driven  off  every  white  man 
between  the  Platte  and  the  Yellowstone  except  those  in 
the  Black  Hills  settlements,  and  they  are  practically 
isolated.  It  was  rumored  that  Webb  and  Truscott 
would  be  ordered  forward  to  join  us,  and  I  suppose 
Buxton  and  Ray  will  take  that  opportunity  of  joining 
their  companies.  Should  Mr.  Gleason  stay  any  time 
near  Russell  he  will  doubtless  be  inclined  to  cultivate 
the  ladies  from  Wallace, — Mrs.  Truscott  and  Miss  San- 
ford  especially.  If  I  could  have  seen  Truscott  or  fore 
seen  the  plan,  it  would  have  been  easy  to  prevent  it. 
As  I  could  not  do  either,  you  must  give  him  few  oppor 
tunities  of  visiting  them  at  our  house.  They  will  be 
in  their  own,  though,  by  the  time  he  comes." 

They  were  not,  however,  as  we  have  seen.  The 
major  had  not  contemplated  the  possibility  of  Gleason's 
taking  a  "  ten  days'  delay"  before  reporting  for  duty, 
and  so  having  ample  time  in  which  to  ingratiate  him 
self  with  the  ladies.  What  he  would  have  said  in  his 
own  vigorous  English  could  he  have  seen  the  lieuten 
ant  leaning  over  Miss  Sanford's  shoulder  as  she  sat  at 
the  table  once  more  looking  through  the  cavalry  album, 
will  not  bear  recording  in  these  pages.  As  Mrs.  Stan- 
nard  herself  glanced  in  from  the  hall-way  she  more 
than  wished  that  Luce  were  home  if  only  to  hear  her 
lion  growl.  She  thought  anxiously  of  him  and  of  the 
situation  of  affairs  in  the  Indian  country  only  a  hun 
dred  miles  to  the  north.  She  dreaded  to  tell  Mrs. 
Truscott  of  the  regiment's  prospects  for  immediate  ao 


RA  Y  TO   THE  FRONT.  133 

tion,  but  she  determined  to  try  some  expedient  to  rid 
Miss  Sanford  and  the  house  of  the  presence  of  Mr. 
Gleason.  Her  air  was  brisk  and  determined,  therefore, 
as  she  entered  the  parlor. 

•"  The  major  writes  me  from  the  Niobrara  crossing 
that  the  regiment  has  had  some  sharp  chasing  to  do 
already,  and  that  they  will  be  across  the  trails  in  two 
days,  when  they  will  certainly  have  fighting,"  she  said, 
looking  intently  at  Mr.  Gleason.  "  What  news  do  you 
get?" 

"  Well,  my  mail  has  all  gone  on  to  Wallace,  you  see, 
Mrs.  Stannard,"  explained  he,  unwilling  to  admit  in 
the  presence  of  the  ladies  that  nobody  in  the  regiment 
cared  enough  for  him  to  write.  "  It  will  all  be  up  to 
morrow  or  next  day,  I  presume,  and  by  that  time  the 
troops  will  be  here,  and  I'll  be  myself  again.  The  real 
cavalryman,  Miss  Sanford,  is  like  a  fish  out  of  water 
if  separated  more  than  a  day  from  his  horse.  I  long 
to  be  in  saddle  again,"  he  added,  with  a  complacent 
glance  at  the  tall,  well-proportioned  figure  reflected  in 
the  mirror.  Gleason  prided  himself,  and  not  without 
reason,  on  his  manly  build,  and  was  incessantly  finding 
some  means  of  calling  attention  to  it. 

"  If  the  major's  views  are  correct,  you  will  have 
abundant  cavalry  duty  this  summer,  Mr.  Gleason,"  said 
Mrs.  Stannard,  u  and  I  was  about  to  ask  you  if  you 
heard  nothing  at  the  office, — if  none  of  the  garrison 
officers  had  letters  or  news  from  the  front."  She  hoped 
he  would  offer  to  go  and  inquire  in  person,  as  he  had  gone 
for  the  mail ;  but  Gleason  preferred  to  have  the  officers 
suppose  that  he  was  in  full  possession  of  news  which 
would  not  be  sent  to  them.  Going  for  the  ladies'  let- 

12 


134  MARION'S  FAITH. 

ters  implied  certain  authority  from  them, — certain  in 
timacy  in  the  household.  Going  to  inquire  for  news, 
on  the  contrary,  implied  lack  of  information,  and  it  was 
his  role  to  play  that  the  — th  kept  him  fully  posted. 
His  reply  was  therefore  brief,  and  he  quickly  changed 
the  subject. 

"  There  was  no  news  that  I  heard  of,  Mrs.  Stannard, 
but  I  will  go  and  see  Colonel  Whaling  after  he  has  had 
time  to  read  all  his  mail.  Miss  Sanford  was  just  asking 
me  something  about  Mr.  Stryker, — she  was  admiring 
his  photograph." 

"  Bring  the  album  out  on  the  piazza.  It  is  lovely 
and  bright  there  now,  and  the  wind  is  not  blowing,  for 
a  wonder.  I  think  we  will  all  be  better  for  fresh  air, 
and  Mrs.  Truscott  will  be  down  in  a  moment."  Mrs. 
Stannard  spoke  decidedly,  and  he  had  no  course  but  to 
obey,  even  though  he  did  not  see  the  grateful  look  in 
Miss  Sanford's  eyes.  He  much  preferred  the  confiden 
tial  flavor  which  was  possessed  by  a  parlor  interview, 
but  there  was  no  help  for  it.  Following  the  lead  of  his 
hostess,  he  stepped  out  upon  the  piazza  just  as  Mrs. 
Truscott,  bright,  animated,  and  happy,  came  fluttering 
down  the  stairs  waving  the  captain's  letter.  Miss  San- 
ford  glanced  up  at  her  bonny  face,  and  smiled  sympa 
thetically. 

"  No  need  to  ask  you  is  all  well,  Gracie." 

"  No,  indeed  !  Jack  writes  that  they  will  be  in 
camp  close  beside  us  to-morrow  morning.  Oh,  listen  ! 
There's  the  band,  and  that  is  the  very  quickstep  he  used 
to  love  so  much  at  the  Point."  And,  fairly  dancing  in 
her  happiness,  she  threw  her  arm  around  Marion's  waist 
and  together  they  appeared  at  the  threshold, — a  lovely 


RAY  TO    THE  FRONT.  135 

picture,  as  the  cap-doffing  group  of  officers  thought  to  a 
man.  Half  a  dozen  of  these  gentry  were  lolling  at  the 
gate ;  the  broad  walk  was  already  alive  with  graceful 
forms  in  summer  dresses,  with  playful  children  and 
sedate  nurse-maids  trundling  the  inevitable  baby-car 
riage.  The  band  had  just  taken  possession  of  its  cir 
cular  stand  out  on  the  parade ;  a  few  carriages  and 
buggies  had  driven  out  from  town.  It  was  a  lovely 
June  Saturday  afternoon, — the  hebdomadal  half  holi 
day  of  the  military  bailiwick, — and  the  dingy  brown 
frontier  fort  looked  merry  as  sunshine,  music,  and  sweet 
faces  could  make  it.  Seeing  the  ladies  upon  the  piazza, 
there  was  a  general  movement  among  the  officers  on  the 
walk  indicative  of  a  desire  to  join  the  party,  and  Mr. 
Gleason  gritted  his  teeth  and  went  for  more  chairs. 
Mrs.  Turner  had  appeared  on  her  own  gallery  just 
before,  possibly  with  the  intention  of  starting  a  rival 
levee,  and  one  or  two  youthful  moths  were  fluttering 
about  her  candle  already.  She  was  not  averse  to  a  flir 
tation,  ordinarily,  but  it  did  "not  look  well  to  see  her 
sitting  with  only  one  or  two  of  the  infantry  subalterns 
when  Mrs.  Standard's  piazza  was  filled.  She  wisely 
determined  to  join  the  majority ;  smilingly  transferred 
herself  and  escort  thither,  and  was  as  smilingly  wel 
comed.  There  must  have  been  a  dozen  in  the  group — 
officers  and  ladies — when  the  commanding  officer's  or 
derly  entered  the  gate,  saluted  Mr.  Gleason,  and  said, — 

"  Colonel  Whaling's  compliments,  sir,  and  could  you 
tell  him  when  Lieutenant  Ray  will  be  here  ?" 

The  ladies  looked  up  in  surprise.  The  officers — all 
of  whom  remembered  the  name  in  connection  with  what 
had  been  said  by  Messrs.  Crane,  Wilkins,  and  Gleason 


136  MARION'S  FAITH. 

himself — listened  for  his  reply.     Gleason  was  quick  to 
note  the  silence  and  to  divine  its  cause. 

"  Give  my  compliments  to  the  colonel,  and  say  that 
I  do  not  know.  I  have  not  seen  or  heard — rather,  I 
have  not  seen  Mr.  Ray  since  leaving  Kansas  City,"  he 
replied. 

For  a  moment  no  one  spoke.  Then,  as  the  orderly 
walked  away,  Mrs.  Stannard,  coloring  slightly,  turned 
full  upon  the  lieutenant.  "  Mr.  Gleason,  it  seems 
strange  that  you  should  know  nothing  of  Mr.  Ray's 
movements.  You  are  generally  well  informed,  and  the 
major  writes  me  how  pleasantly  they  are  looking  for 
ward  to  Ray's  coming.  You  know  that  out  in  the 
regiment  they  expect  him  by  '  pony  express/ "  she 
laughingly  said,  for  the  benefit  of  her  silent  auditors. 

Gleason  well  divined  her  object.  It  was  to  convey 
to  the  garrison  officers  that  Ray  was  popular  among  his 
comrades  at  the  front,  however  he  might  be  regarded 
by  those  at  the  rear.  He  had  already  committed  him 
self  in  presence  of  several  of  those  now  in  the  party, 
and  he  answered, — 

"  I'm  afraid  some  people  will  be  disappointed,  then. 
To  begin  with,  there  is  no  way  of  his  reaching  the  reg 
iment  until  Truscott  and  Webb  go  up  with  their  com 
panies.  He  could  get  no  farther  than  Larainie  by  stage 
even  were  he  here  to  try ;  but  he  isn't  here, — and  he  isn't 
likely  to  be,  either." 

"Will  you  tell  me  why?"  asked  Mrs.  Stannard, 
paling  now,  but  looking  fixedly  at  him  with  a  gleam, 
in  her  blue  eyes  that  made  him  wince. 

"  Well,  I'd  rather  not  go  into  particulars,"  he  mut 
tered,  looking  uneasily  around. 


RAY  TO    THE  FRONT.  137 

"  Is  it  illness,  Mr.  Gleason  ?" 

"  No ;  I  don't  know  that  it  is." 

"  Then,  for  one,  I  feel  confident  that  he  will  be  here 
in  abundant  time  to  go  by  first  opportunity,"  she  said, 
with  quiet  meaning. 

"  Who  may  this  swell  be  ?"  languidly  remarked  one 
of  the  officers,  looking  down  the  road  towards  the  gate. 
A.11  eyes  followed  his  in  an  instant. 

Speeding  at  easy  lope  upon  a  spirited  sorrel  a  horse 
man  came  jauntily  up  the  row.  The  erect  carriage,  the 
perfect  seat,  the  ease  and  grace  with  which  his  lithe 
form  swayed  with  every  motion  of  his  steed,  all  present 
could  see  at  a  glance.  Mrs.  Stannard  rose  quickly  to 
her  feet ;  her  gaze  becoming  eager,  then  joyous. 

"  Look  !"  she  almost  cried.    "  It's  Mr.  Ray  himself  1" 

In  another  minute,  throwing  himself  lightly  from 
the  saddle,  and  tossing  the  reins  to  a  statuesque  orderly, 
the  horseman  came  beaming  through  the  gate,  and  Mrs. 
Stannard,  to  Miss  Sanford's  mingled  amaze  and  appro 
bation,  was  warmly  grasping  both  his  hands  in  hers. 
Mrs.  Truscott,  blushing  brightly  and  showing  welcome 
and  pleasure  in  her  lovely  eyes,  but  with  the  reserve  ot 
younger  wifehood,  had  held  forth  one  little  hand.  Then 
she  heard  the  voluble  gush  with  which  Mrs.  Turner 
precipitated  herself  upon  him,  and,  while  he  remained 
captive — as  he  had  to — in  that  fair  matron's  hands, 
laughingly  answering  her  thronging  questions,  Marion 
Sanford  had  her  first  look  at  the  young  officer  who  had 
been  the  subject  of  such  varying  report.  First  impres 
sions  are  ever  strong,  and  what  she  saw  was  this :  a 
lithe,  deep-chested,  square-shouldered  young  fellow, 
with  nerve  and  spring  in  every  motion,  standing  bare- 


138  MARION'S  FAITH. 

headed  before  them  with  the  sunlight  dancing  on  his 
close-cropped  hair  and  shapely  head.  His  eyes  were 
dark,  and  heavily  shaded  with  thick  brows  and  long 
curling  lashes,  but  the  eyes  brightened  with  every  laugh 
ing  word, — were  full  of  life  and  health  and  straight 
forwardness  and  fun.  She  could  not  but  note  how  clear 
and  brave  and  wide-open  they  were,  despite  the  little 
wrinkles  gathered  at  the  corners  and  a  faint  shading 
underneath.  His  forehead,  what  could  be  seen  of  it 
when  he  tossed  aside  the  dark,  wavy  "  bang"  that  fell 
almost  as  low  as  her  own,  was  white  and  smooth,  but 
temples,  cheeks,  the  smooth-shaven  jaws,  and  the  round, 
powerful  throat  were  bronzed  and  tanned  by  sun  and 
wind,  and  his  white  teeth  gleamed  all  the  whiter  through 
the  shading  of  the  thick,  curling,  dark  moustache,  and 
the  lips  that  laughed  so  merrily  were  soft  and  pink  as 
any  woman's  might  be;  at  least  they  were  when  he 
bowed  and  smiled  and  spoke  her  name  when  introduced 
to  her,  and  when  he  nodded  companionably  to  the  bow 
ing  group  of  officers,  to  whom  Mrs.  Stannard  presented 
him  with  marked  pride,  "  Mr.  Ray — of  Ours,"  but 
how,  for  a  second,  his  eye  flashed  and  how  rigid  a  spasm 
crossed  his  lips  when  Gleason's  name  was  mentioned. 
To  him  he  merely  nodded,  and  instantly  turned  his 
back.  All  this  and  more  Miss  Sanford  noted  by  that 
electric  process  which  was  known  to  women  long  before 
lightning  was  photographed,  and  enabled  the  sex  to  see 
in  a  quarter-second  intricate  details  of  feminine  costume 
that  it  would  take  the  nimblest  tongue  ten  minutes  to 
describe.  She  noticed  his  dress,  so  unlike  the  precise 
attire  of  his  comrades,  who  wore,  to  the  uttermost  de 
tail,  the  regulation  uniform.  He  had  tossed  a  broad- 


RAF  TO    THE  FRONT.  139 

brimmed,  light-colored  ycouting  hat  upon  the  little  grass 
plat  as  he  entered,  and  now  stood  before  them  in  the 
field  rig  he-  so  well  adorned.  A  dark-blue,  double- 
breasted,  broad-collared  flannel  shirt,  tucked  in  at  the 
waist  in  snugly-fitting  breeches  of  Indian-tanned  buck 
skin,  while  Sioux  leggings  encased  his  legs  from  knee 
to  ankle,  and  his  feet  were  shod  substantially  in  alli 
gator-skin.  Mexican  spurs  were  at  his  heels ;  a  broad 
leather  belt  bristling  with  cartridges,  and  supporting 
knife  and  revolver,  hung  at  his  waist  •  a  red  silk  hand 
kerchief  was  loosely  knotted  at  his  throat,  and  soft 
brown  gauntlets  covered  his  hands  until  they  were  dis 
carded  as  he  greeted  them.  If  ever  man  looked  the 
picture  of  elastic  health  and  vigor  it  was  Mr.  Ray. 
This,  then,  was  something  like  the  cavalry  life  of  which 
she  had  heard  so  much.  Marion  Sanford,  despite  East 
ern  education  and  refinement,  was  so  unconventional  as 
to  find  something  more  attractive  in  Mr.  Ray  in  this 
same  field  rig  than  in  Mr.  Gleason  in  faultlessly  accu 
rate  uniform. 

"  Why,  Mr.  Ray,  how  very  well  you  look !"  was 
Mrs.  Turner's  exclamation,  "and  somebody  said  you 
had  been  ill." 

"  I  ?     No  indeed  !     I  never  felt  better  in  my  life.7' 

"  But  where  have  you  been  ?  When  did  you  come  ? 
Why  didn't  you  write  ?"  were  some  among  the  count 
less  questions  thrust  upon  him. 

"  I  had  a  few  days'  delay,  you  know ;  came  by  way 
of  Omaha  to  see  my  sister ;  just  arrived  at  one  to-day ; 
left  my  trunks  with  the  quartermaster  at  the  depot ; 
got  into  field  rig  in  fifteen  minutes ;  packed  my  saddle 
bags  and  slung  them  on  Dandy,  who  has  been  waiting 


140  MARION'S  FAITH. 

for  me  ever  since  the  regiment  marched ;  galloped  out 
here  to  say  good-by  to  you,  and  in  half  an  hour  I'll  be 
off  for  Laramie." 

"  Why,  Mr.  Ray  !  What  can  be  the  hurry  ?  Why 
start  this  evening  ?" 

"  Why  not?"  he  laughed.  " Dandy  and  I  can  reach 
the  Chug  and  put  up  with  old  Phillipse  to-night,  and 
gallop  on  to  Laramie  to-morrow.  Once  there,  it  won't 
take  me  long  to  find  my  way  out  to  the  regiment." 

"  Why,  the  whole  country  is  full  of  Indians !"  ex 
postulated  Mrs.  Stannard.  "  The  major  writes  in  this 
very  letter  that  no  one  ventures  north  of  the  Platte." 

"  How  did  the  letter  come  in,  then  ?  and  how  is  com 
munication  kept  up?"  asked  the  lieutenant,  showing 
his  white  teeth  in  his  amusement. 

"  Oh  !  couriers,  of  course ;  but  they  are  half-breeds, 
«md  have  lived  all  their  life  in  that  country." 

"  Well,  I  can  wriggle  through  if  they  can.  One 
thing  is  certain,  it  won't  be  for  lack  of  trying.  So, 
whatever  you  may  have  to  send  to  the  major,  get  ready ; 
the  lightning  express  leaves  at  4.30.  I  must  go  and 
report  my  movements  to  the  commanding  officer,  and 
then  will  come  back  to  you.  Is  the  adjutant  here?" 
he  asked,  looking  around  at  the  party  of  infantrymen 
who  were  standing  waiting  for  a  chance  to  excuse  them 
selves,  and  leave  the  ladies  to  the  undisputed  possession 
of  their  evident  favorite.  Mr.  Warner  bowed  : 

"  At  your  service,  Mr.  Ray." 

"  Will  you  come  and  present  me  to  the  colonel  ?  I 
will  be  back  in  ten  minutes,  Mrs.  Stannard ;  and,  Mrs. 
Truscott,  remember  it  is  over  a  year  since  I  saw  you 
last, — and  you  gave  me  good  luck  the  last  time  I  went 


RAY  TO    THE  FRONT.  141 

out  scouting."  With  that,  and  a  general  bow  by  way 
of  parting  courtesy,  Mr.  Ray  took  himself  and  the 
post  adjutant  off.  For  a  moment  there  was  silence. 
Everybody  gazed  after  him  except  Gleason. 

"  Isn't  that  just  too  characteristic  of  Mr.  Ray  for 
anything?"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Turner.  "I  wonder  if 
any  other  officer  would  be  in  such  a  hurry  to  risk  his 
scalp  in  chasing  the  regiment?  You  wouldn't,  would 
you,  Mr.  Gleason  ?"  she  added,  with  the  deliberate  and 
mischievous  impertinence  she  knew  would  sting,  and 
meant  should  sting,  and  felt  serenely  confident  that  her 
victim  could  not  resent.  He  flushed  hotly  : 

"  My  duties  are  with  my  troop,  Mrs.  Turner,  and 
Mr.  Ray's  with  his.  When  my  troop  goes  I  go  with 
it.  When  his  went — he  didn't.  That's  all  there  is  to 
it." 

"But  he  couldn't  go,  Mr.  Gleason,  as  you  well 
know,"  replied  Mrs.  Turner ;  and  evidently  Mrs.  Stan- 
nard,  too,  was  eager  to  ask  him  what  he  had  to  say 
now  about  Mr.  Ray's  staying  behind.  To  tell  the  truth, 
he  was  more  dismayed  by  Ray's  appearance  than  he 
dare  admit  even  to  himself.  He  was  startled.  He  had 
grave  reason  for  not  wanting  to  meet  him  again,  and  as 
the  officers  were  scattering  he  seized  a  pretext,  called  to 
one  of  them  that  he  wished  to  speak  with  him  a  moment, 
and  hurried  away.  When  Ray  returned  from  the  colo 
nel's  quarters,  he  had  the  field  to  himself,  and  that  they 
might  have  him — their  regimental  possession — to  them 
selves,  Mrs.  Stannard  begged  the  younger  ladies  to  usher 
him  into  the  parlor,  where  they  could  be  secure  against 
interruption  until  he  had  to  start. 

Gleason's  business  with  his  infantry  friend  was  of 


142  MARIONS  FAITH. 

alight  moment,  apparently,  as  he  speedily  left  him  and 
wended  his  way  to  the  quarters  of  the  commanding 
officer.  Old  Colonel  Whaling  was  just  coming  forth, 
and  they  met  at  the  gate. 

"  You  sent  me  an  inquiry  a  few  moments  ago,  sir, 
which  I  could  not  answer  at  the  time,"  said  the  lieu 
tenant,  in  his  blandest  manner.  "  I  see  that  Mr.  Ray 
has  arrived  to  speak  for  himself.  May  I  ask  if  he  was 
wanted  for  anything  especial?"  And  Gleason  looked 
very  closely  into  the  grizzled  features  of  the  command 
ant. 

"  Some  letters  for  him  had  been  sent  with  my  mail — 
and  a  telegram.  I  inferred  that  he  must  be  coming, 
and  thought  you  might  know.  Rather  a  spirited 
young  fellow  he  seems  to  be.  I  was  quite  startled  at 
his  notion  of  riding  alone  in  search  of  the  regiment. 
How  soon  does  he  start  ?  I  see  his  horse  there  yet." 

"  He  spoke  of  going  in  a  few  moments,  sir.  You 
see  we  have  been  so  much  accustomed  to  this  sort  of 
thing  in  Arizona  that  there  is  nothing  unusual  in  it  to 
us.  Still,  I  hardly  expected  Mr.  Ray  would  be  going 
— or  rather — there  were  some  matters  which  he  left  un 
settled  that  I  supposed  would  prevent  his  going.  You 
didn't  happen  to  notice  where  his  letters  were  from,  I 
suppose  ?"  asked  the  lieutenant,  tentatively. 

The  colonel  would  have  colored  had  he  been  younger, 
but  his  grizzled  old  face  had  long  since  lost  its  capacity 
for  blushing.  He  felt  that  it  grew  hot,  however,  and 
Gleason's  insinuation  cut,  as  Gleason  knew  it  would. 
Old  Whaling  was  morbidly  inquisitive  as  to  the  corre 
spondence  of  his  officers,  and  could  rarely  resist  the 
temptation  of  studying  postmarks,  seals,  superscrip- 


RAY  TO   THE  FRONT.  143 

tion,  and  general  features  of  all  letters  that  came 
through  his  hands. 

"  Not — not  especially/7  he  stammered. 

Gleason  saw  his  advantage  and  pursued  it.  He 
spoke  with  all  apparent  hesitancy  and  proper  regret. 

"  I  feared  that  he  might  have  been  recalled,  or  his 
going  arrested  by  orders  from  division  headquarters,  or 
from  Fort  Leavenworth.  Some  things  with  regard  to 
the  purchase  of  one  lot  of  horses,  of  which  I  disap 
proved,  were  being  looked  into  when  I  came  away,  and 

when Well,  colonel,  it  is  against  the  rule  of  our 

regiment,  to  talk  to  outsiders  of  one  another"  ("  Like — 
ahem !"  was  old  Whaling's  muttered  comment  as  he 
recalled  what  he  had  heard  of  Gleason's  revelations  at 
the  store),  "  and  I  would  not  allude  to  this  but  that,  as 
commanding  officer,  you  will  be  sure  to  hear  of  it  all, 
You  see  the  principal  dealer  with  whom  we  did  busi 
ness  is  a  brother-in-law  of  Mr.  Ray's, — a  fellow  named 
Rallston, — and  some  of  his  horses  wouldn't  pass  muster 
anywhere  ;  but — well,  Ray  was  with  him  day  after  day, 
and  kept  aloof  from  Buxton  and  myself,  and  there  was 
some  money  transaction  between  them,  and  there's  been 
a  row.  At  the  last  moment  Rallston  came  to  me  to 
complain  that  he  had  been  cheated,  and  what  I'm  afraid 
of  is  that  Ray  promised  to  secure  the  acceptance  of  a 
lot  of  worthless  horses  by  the  board  for  some  five  hun 
dred  dollars  cash  advanced  him  by  Rallston.  He  was 
hot  about  it,  and  swore  he  would  bring  matters  to  Gen 
eral  Sheridan's  notice  instantly.  That  is  what  made 
me  so  guarded  in  the  reply  I  sent  you.  I  owe  you  this 
explanation,  colonel,  but  trust  you  will  consider  it  con 
fidential." 


144  MARION'S  FAITH. 

"Whaling  looked  greatly  discomposed  but  unquestion 
ably  interested.  He  eyed  Gleason  sharply  and  took  it 
all  in  without  a  word. 

"  I  thought  some  of  his  letters  might  have  been  from 
Leavenworth,"  said  Gleason,  after  a  pause. 

"  One  of  them  was, — that  is,  I  think  I  saw  the  office 
mark, — but  nothing  official  has  reached  me  on  the  matter. 
I'm  sorry  to  hear  it,  very ;  for  both  your  colonel  and 
Major  Stannard  spoke  in  highest  terms  of  Mr.  Ray 
when  they  were  here." 

"  Oh,  Ray  has  done  good  service  and  all  that  sort 
of  thing,  but  when  a  fellow  of  his  age  gets  going  down 
hill  with  debts  and  drinking  and  cards — well,  you  know 
how  it  has  been  in  your  own  regiment,  colonel." 

"  He  don't  look  like  a  drinking  man,"  said  the  colo 
nel.  "  I  never  saw  clearer  eyes  or  complexion  in  any 
fellow." 

"  Ye-es;  he  looks  unusually  well  just  now." 

And  just  at  that  moment  as  they  stood  there  talking 
of  him,  Mrs.  Stannard's  door  opened  and  he  came 
forth,  the  three  ladies  following.  He  did  look  well, — 
more  than  well,  as  he  turned  with  extended  hand  to 
say  good-by.  "  Dandy,"  his  lithe-limbed  sorrel,  pricked 
up  his  dainty,  pointed  ears  and  whinnied  eagerly  as  he 
heard  his  step  on  the  piazza,  giving  himself  a  shake 
that  threatened  the  dislocation  of  his  burden  of  blank 
ets,  canteen,  and  saddle-bags.  The  ladies  surrounded 
him  at  the  gate.  Mrs.  Stannard's  kind  blue  eyes  were 
moistening.  How  often  had  she  said  good-by  to  the 
young  fellows  starting  out  as  buoyantly  as  Ray  to-day, 
thinking  as  she  did  so  of  the  mothers  and  sisters  at 
home !  How  often  had  it  happened  that  they  came 


RAY  TO    THE  FRONT.  145 

back  maimed,  pallid,  suffering,  or — not  at  all !  She 
had  always  liked  Ray,  he  was  so  frank,  so  loyal,  so 
true,  and  more  than  ever  she  liked  now  to  show  her 
friendship  and  regard  since  he  had  been  slandered. 
Mrs.  Truscott  and  Miss  Sanford  stood  with  arms  en 
twined  about  each  other's  waist, — the  sweetest  and  best 
of  them  have  that  innate,  inevitable  coquetry, — and 
Mrs.  Stannard  bent  forward  to  rearrange  the  silken 
knot  at  his  throat,  giving  it  an  approving  pat  as  she 
surveyed  the  improvement.  Ray  smiled  his  thanks. 

"  Do  you  remember  the  night  at  Sandy,  Mrs.  Trus 
cott,  the  last  scout  we  started  out  on,  and  how  you 
came  to  see  us  off  and  wish  me  good  luck  ?" 

"As  well  as  though  it  were  only  yesterday,"  she 
answered. 

"  We  had  good  luck.  It  was  one  of  the  best  scouts 
ever  made  from  Sandy,  and  the  Apaches  caught  it 
heavily.  It  was  a  success  all  through  except  our — our 
losing  Tanner  and  Kerrigan.  Jack's  hit  was  to  be 
envied." 

She  shuddered  and  drew  closer  to  Miss  Sanford's 
side. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Ray  !  I  cannot  bear  to  think  of  that  fight. 
I  won't  wish  you  good  luck  again.  You  always  expect 
it  to  mean  unlimited  meetings  with  the  Indians.  I 
pray  you  may  not  see  one." 

"  Then  I  appeal  to  you,  Miss  Sanford.  Shall  I  con 
fess  that  your  name  is  one  I  have  envied  for  the  last 
five  years  ?  No,  don't  be  amazed  !  We  Kentuckians 
always  associate  it  now  with  two  of  our  grandest 
horses, — Monarchist  and  Harry  Bassett.  Why,  I'm 
going  to  ride  the  old  Sanford  colors  myself  this  sum- 
o  k  13 


146  MARIONS  FAITH. 

mer.  See, — the  dark  blue  ?"  he  laughed,  pointing  to 
his  breast. 

"  Then  you  should  be  among  the  first  coming  home," 
she  answered,  brightly,  "and  that  isn't  your  custom, 
I'm  told." 

"  But  in  this  case  the  whole  regiment  will  be  wearing 
the  dark  blue ;  so  there  will  be  no  distinction.  I  won't 
beg  for  a  ribbon.  It's  bad  luck.  I  stole  the  tassel  of 
Miss  Pelham's  fan  in  Arizona  and  wore  it  on  the  next 
dash  ;  we  never  saw  an  Indian,  and  she  married  a  fel 
low  who  stayed  at  home.  All  the  same,  Miss  Sanford, 
if  you  hear  of  the  — th  doing  anything  especially  lively 
this  summer,  remember  that  one  fellow  in  the  crowd 
fides  his  best  to  win  for  the  sake  of  your  colors.  Au 
revoir.  Come,  Dandy,  you  scamp ;  now  for  a  scamper 
to  the  Chug." 

He  sprang  lightly  into  saddle,  waved  his  hat  to 
them,  then  bent  low,  as  by  sudden  impulse,  and  held 
out  his  hand. 

"  God  bless  you,  Mrs.  Stannard  !"  he  said ;  and  look 
ing  at  her  in  half  surprise,  they  saw  her  eyes  were 
brimming  with  tears. 

Another  moment  and  he  had  turned  Dandy's  head  to 
the  west,  and  was  tripping  up  the  road  past  the  adju 
tant's  office.  They  saw  him  raise  his  gauntleted  hand 
in  salute  to  the  post  commander,  and  heard  his  voice 
call  out,  ringingly,  "Good-day,  colonel."  They  saw 
that  between  him  and  Mr.  Gleason  no  sign  of  recogni 
tion  passed,  and  they  stood  in  silence  watching  him 
until,  turning  out  at  the  west  gate,  he  struck  a  lope  and 
disappeared  behind  the  band  quarters,  out  on  the  open 
prairie. 


A   JUNE  SUNDAY.  147 

When  Mr.  Gleason  touched  his  cap  to  the  colonel 
and  started  to  rejoin  the  ladies,  they  saw  him  coming. 
Nobody  said  a  word,  but  the  three  ladies  re-entered  the 
house,  Mrs.  Truscott  last ;  but  it  was  Mrs.  Stannard 
who  turned  back  in  the  hall  and  shut  the  door.  When 
Gleason  reached  the  front  gate  he  concluded  not  to 
enter,  but  went  on  down  the  row. 


CHAPTER    X. 

A  JUNE  SUNDAY. 

IT  is  a  cloudless  Sunday  morning,  the  longest  Sun 
day  in  that  month  of  longest  days,  warm,  balmy,  rose- 
bearing  June.  Only  a  few  hours'  high  is  the  blazing 
god  of  day,  but  his  beams  beat  fiercely  down  on  a  land 
scape  wellnigh  as  arid  as  the  Arizona  our  troopers 
knew  so  well.  Not  a  breath  of  air  is  stirring.  Down 
in  the  shallow  valley  to  the  right,  where  the  cotton- 
woods  are  blistering  beside  the  sandy  stream-bed,  a  faint 
column  of  smoke  rises  straight  as  the  stem  of  a  pine- 
tree  until  it  melts  into  indistinguishable  air.  The 
sandy  waste  goes  twisting  and  turning  in  its  fringe  of 
timber  southeastward  along  a  broad  depression  in  the 
face  of  the  land,  until  twenty  odd  miles  away  it  seems 
brought  up  standing  by  a  barrier  of  rugged  hills  that 
dip  into  the  bare  surface  at  the  south,  and  go  rising  and 
falling,  rolling  and  tumbling,  higher  and  raggeder,  to 
the  north.  All  the  intervening  stretches  are  bare, 


148  MARIONS  FAITH. 

tawny,  sun-scorched,  except  those  fringing  cottonwoods. 
All  those  tumbling  heights  are  dark  and  frowning 
through  their  beards  of  gloomy  larch  and  pine. 
Black  they  stand  against  the  eastern  sky,  from  the 
jagged  summits  at  the  south  to  where  the  northernmost 
peak, — the  Inyan  Kara, — the  Heengha-Kaaga  of  the 
Sioux,  stands  sentinel  over  the  sisterhood  slumbering 
at  her  feet.  These  are  the  Black  Hills  of  Dakota,  as 
we  see  them  from  the  breaks  of  the  Mini  Pusa,  a  long 
day's  march  to  the  west.  Here  to  our  right,  southeast 
ward,  rolls  the  powdery  flood  of  the  South  Cheyenne, 
when  earlier  in  the  season  the  melting  snows  go  trick 
ling  down  the  hill-sides.  But  to-day  only  in  dry  and 
waving  ripples  of  sand  can  we  trace  its  course.  If  you 
would  see  the  water,  dig  beneath  the  surface.  Here 
behind  us  rolls  another  sandy  stream,  dry  as  its  Dakota 
name  implies, — Mini  Pusa :  Dry  Water, — and  to  our 
right  and  rear  is  their  sandy  confluence.  Southward, 
almost  to  the  very  horizon,  in  waves  and  rolls  and 
ridges,  bare  of  trees,  void  of  color,  the  earth  unfolds 
before  the  eye,  while,  as  though  to  relieve  the  strain  of 
gazing  over  the  expanse  so  illimitable  in  its  monotony, 
a  blue  line  of  cliifs  and  crags  stretches  across  the  sky 
line  for  many  degrees.  Beyond  that,  out  of  sight  to 
the  southeast,  lies  the  sheltered,  fertile  valley  of  the 
upper  White  Earth  River;  and  there  are  the  legal 
homes  of  thousands  of  the  "  nation's  wards,"  the  bands 
of  the  Dakotas— Ogallalla  and  BrulS,  led  by  Red  Cloud 
and  Spotted  Tail.  There,  too,  are  clothed  and  fed  and 
cared  for  a  thousand  odd  Cheyennes.  Just  over  that 
ridge  at  its  western  end,  where  it  seems  to  blend  into 

O  •* 

the  general  surface  of  upland  prairie,  a  faint  blue  peak 


A   JUNE  SUNDAY.  149 

leaps  up  into  the  heated  air, — "Old  Rawhide," — the 
landmark  of  the  region.  Farther  off,  south  west  ward, 
still  another  peak  rises  blue  and  pale  against  the  burn 
ing  distance.  'Tis  far  across  the  Platte,  a  good  hun 
dred  miles  away.  Plainsmen  to  this  day  call  it  Larmie 
in  that  iconoclastic  slaughter  of  every  poetic  title  that  is 
their  proud  characteristic.  All  over  our  grand  conti 
nent  it  is  the  same.  The  names,  musical,  sonorous,  or 
descriptive,  handed  down  as  the  heritage  of  the  French 
missionaries,  the  Spanish  explorers,  or  the  aboriginal 
owners,  are  all  giving  way  to  that  democratic  intoler 
ance  of  foreign  title  which  is  the  birthright  of  the 
free-born  American.  What  name  more  grandly  de 
scriptive  could  discoverer  have  given  to  the  rounded, 
gloomy  crest  in  the  southern  sierras,  bald  at  the  crown, 
fringed  with  its  circling  pines, — what  better  name  than 
Monte  San  Mateo — Saint  Matthew, — he  of  the  shaven 
poll? 

Over  a  century  the  title  held.  Adaptive  Indian, 
Catholic  Mexican,  acceptive  dragoon,  one  and  all  re 
spected  and  believed  in  it.  But  then  came  the  miner 
and  the  cowboy,  and  with  them  the  new  vocabulary. 
Monte  San  Mat6o  slinks  in  unmerited  shame  to  hide 
its  heralded  deformity  as  Baldhead  Butte.  What  dev 
ilish  inspiration  impelled  the  Forty-Niners  to  damn 
Monte  San  Pablo  to  go  down  to  eternity  as  Bill  Wil 
liams'  Mountain  ?  Who  but  an  iconoclast  would  rend 
the  sensitive  ear  with  such  barbarities  as  the  Loss  Ang- 
glees  of  to-day  for  the  deep-vowelled  Los  Angeles  of 
the  last  century  ?  Who  but  a  Yankee  would  swap  the 
murky  "  Purgatoire"  for  Picketwire,  and  make  Zumbro 
River  of  the  Riviere  des  Ombres  of  brave  old  Pdre 

13* 


150  MARION'S  FAITH. 

Marquette  ?  And  so,  too,  it  goes  through  all  the  broad 
Northwest.  Indian  names,  beautiful  in  themselves 
even  though  at  times  untranslatable,  are  tossed  con 
temptuously  aside  to  be  replaced  by  the  homeliest  of 
every-day  appellations,  until  the  modern  geography  of 
Wyoming,  Dakota,  Montana,  and  Idaho  bristles  with 
innumerable  Sage,  Boxelder,  Horse,  and  Pine  Creeks. 

Mini  Ptisa — Dry  Water — have  the  Dakotas  called 
for  ages  the  sandy  stream  that  twists  and  turns  and 
glares  in  the  hot  sunshine  down  here  in  the  vale  behind 
us.  "  Muggins's  Fork,"  some  stockman  said  he  heard 
it  called  a  month  ago.  Far  over  there  to  the  east — 
almost  under  the  black  shadow  of  the  hills — we  see 
another  slender  thread  of  questionable  green ;  cotton- 
woods  again,  no  doubt,  for  nothing  but  cottonwoods  or 
sage-brush  or  grease- wood — worse  yet — will  grow  down 
in  the  alkaline  wastes  of  this  Wyoming  valley  ;  and  that 
thread  or  fringe  betokens  the  existence  of  a  stream  in 
the  spring-time, — one  that  the  Sioux  have  ever  called 
the  Beaver,  after  the  amphibious  rodent  who  dammed 
its  waters,  and  thereby  rescued  them  from  a  like  fate  at 
the  hands  of  modern  residents.  Far  to  the  southeast, 
miles  and  miles  away,  dim  and  hazy  through  the  heat 
waves  of  the  atmosphere  one  can  almost  see  another 
twisting  string  of  shade,  the  cottonwoods  on  the  banks 
of  the  winding  War  Bonnet ;  at  least  so  the  Sioux  named 
it,  after  their  gorgeous  crown  of  eagle  feathers,  but  'twas 
too  polysyllabic,  too  poetic  for  the  blunt-spoken  fron 
tiersman,  who  long  since  compromised  on  Hat  Creek. 
We  are  in  the  heart  of  the  Indian  country,  but  the  wild 
romance  has  fled.  We  are  on  dangerous  ground,  for 
there,  straight  away  before  our  eyes,  broad,  beaten  as  a 


A   JUNE  SUNDAY.  15] 

race-course,  prominent  as  any  public  highway,  descend 
ing  the  slope  until  lost  in  the  timber  of  the  South  Chey 
enne,  then  reappearing  beyond,  until  far  in  the  southeast 
it  dwindles  in  perspective  to  a  mere  thread,  and  so  dips 
into  the  valley  of  the  War  Bonnet  and  Indian  Creek, — 
there  lies  the  broad  road  from  the  reservations  to  the 
war-path.  It  is  the  trail  over  which  for  years  the 
"  Wards  of  the  Nation"  have  borne  the  paid-up  prices 
of  their  good  behavior  to  sustain  their  brethren  rene- 
gados  in  the  Powder  River  Country  far  up  here  to  the 
northwest.  Over  this  road  all  winter  long,  all  the 
spring-tide,  and  to  this  very  week  in  June,  arms,  ammu 
nition,  ponies,  bacon,  flour,  coffee,  sugar,  clothing,  and 
warriors  have  been  speeding  to  the  hosts  of  Sitting  Bull, 
The  United  States  is  sending  to-day  three  or  four  thou 
sand  men  at  arms,  equipped  and  supplied  by  the  De 
partment  of  War,  to  try  conclusions  with  about  twice 
that  number  of  trained  warriors  similarly  provided  for 
by  the  Department  of  the  Interior.  It  is  odd,  but  it  is 
a  fact.  Camping  along  the  banks  of  the  Rawhide,  the 
first  stream  on  the  Indian  side  of  the  Platte,  the  officer 
in  command  of  the  advance-guard  of  the  — th  was 
surprised  to  see  a  train  of  wagons  and  without  apparent 
escort.  Galloping  down  to  their  fires,  he  accosted  the 
wagon-master,  who  smilingly  assured  him  that  he  and 
his  train  were  in  no  danger  from  the  Indians, — they 
were  bringing  them  supplies.  What  supplies  ?  Why, 
metallic  cartridges,  of  course,  Winchester  and  Henry, 
for  their  magazine-rifles,  don't  you  know?  Oh,  yes. 
He  understood  well  enough  that  they  were  all  going 
out  on  the  war-path,  but  he  couldn't  help  that.  He 
was  paid  so  much  a  month  to  haul  supplies  from  Sid- 


152  MARION'S  FAITH. 

ney  to  Red  Cloud  agency,  and  if  it  happened  to  be 
powder  and  lead,  'tweren't  none  o*  his  business.  How 
much  had  he?  Oh,  three  or  four  hundred  thousand 
rounds,  he  reckoned.  To  whom  consigned?  Why, 
the  trader, — the  Indian  store  at  Red  Cloud,  of  course, — 

Mr. 's.     In  speechless  indignation  the  officer  rides 

off  and  reports  the  matter  to  the  colonel,  and  the  colo 
nel  goes  down  and  interviews  the  imperturbable  "  boss" 
with  similar  result,  and  more ;  for  he  comes  back  with 
a  shrug  of  the  shoulders  and  some  honest  blasphemy, 
for  which  may  Heaven  forgive  him.  (The  fine  inflicted 
by  army  regulations  has  not  yet  been  collected.)  "  We 
can  do  nothing/'  he  says.  "  That  fellow  has  his  papers 
straight  from  the  Interior  Department.  He  has  been 
hauling  cartridges  all  spring."  And  now,  here  is  the 
advance-guard  of  the  — th  again  far  up  on  the  Mini 
Pusa,  just  arrived,  and  that  slender  column  of  smoke 
rising  from  among  the  cottonwoods  tells  of  a  tiny  fire 
where  the  men  are  boiling  their  coffee,  while,  miles  away 
to  the  southwest,  the  rising  dust-clouds  proclaim  the 
coming  of  the  regiment  itself.  Out  on  the  distant 
heights,  on  either  side,  other  smokes  are  rising.  Indian 
signals,  that  say  to  lurking  warriors  far  and  near,  "  Be 
on  your  guard  ;  soldiers  coming ;"  and  so,  here  on  the 
breaks  of  the  Mini  Pusa  on  this  scorching  Sabbath 
morn,  the  vanguard  of  the  — th  has  reached  and  tapped 
the  broad  highway  of  Indian  commerce.  The  laws 
of  the  nation  they  are  sworn  to  defend  prohibit  their 
interfering  with  the  distribution  of  ammunition  by 
that  same  nation  to  the  foes  they  are  ordered  to  meet. 
The  nation  is  impartial :  it  provides  friend  and  foe 
alike.  The  War  Office  sends  its  cartridges  to  the  — th 


A   JUNE  SUNDAY.  153 

through   the   ordnance   officer,    Lieutenant   X.      The 

Indian  Bureau  looks  after  its  wards  through  Mr. 

at  Red  Cloud.  And  now  the  — th  is  ordered  to  stop 
those  cartridges  from  getting  to  Sitting  Bull  up  on  the 
Rosebud.  That  is  what  brings  them  here  to  the  Mini 
Pusa,  and  we  see  them  now  riding  down  in  long  dusty 
column  into  the  valley,  heedless  of  the  dust  they  make, 
for  the  Indians  have  hovered  on  their  flanks,  out  of 
sight,  out  of  range,  but  seeing,  ever  since  they  crossed 
the  Platte;  and  here  they  are,  aold  Stannard"  and 
Billings  with  the  advance,  lying  prone  on  their  stom 
achs  and  searching  through  their  field-glasses-  for  any 
signs  of  Indian  coming  from  the  reservations,  while 
with  the  column  itself,  in  their  battered  slouch  hats  and 
rough  flannel  and  buckskin,  bristling  with  cartridges 
and  ugly  beards,  burned  and  blistered  and  parched 
with  scorching  sun  and  winds  tempered  only  with  al 
kali  dust,  ride  our  Arizona  friends, — many  of  them  at 
least.  Old  Bucketts  with  his  green  goggles ;  Turner 
with  his  melancholy  face  and  placid  ways ;  Raymond, 
stern  and  swart;  Canker,  querulous  and  "nagging" 
with  his  men,  but  eager  for  any  service ;  Stafford,  who 
won  his  troop  vice  the  noble-hearted  Tanner  whom  we 
lost  among  the  Apaches ;  Wayne,  who  is  loquacity 
itself  whenever  he  can  find  a  listener,  and  who  talks  his 
patient  subaltern  almost  deaf  through  the  long  day 
marches ;  and  Crane  and  Wilkins,  who  are  a  good  deal 
together  at  every  halt,  and  consort  more  with  Canker 
than  other  captains  ;  and  then  there  is  the  jolly  element 
that  ever  clusters  around  Blake,  whose  spirits  defy  ad 
versity,  and  whose  merry  quips  and  jests  and  boundless 
distortions  of  fact  or  fancy  are  the  joy  of  the  regiment. 


154  MARION'S  FAITH. 

With  Blake  one  always  finds  Merrill  and  Freeman  and 
some  of  the  jovial  junior  captains,  and,  of  course, 
the  boys, — Hunter,  Dana,  Briggs ;  and  here  they  are 
on  this  blessed  Sabbath  of  the  Centennial  June,  sent  up 

to  stop  Mr. 's  cartridges,  after  they  have  become 

the  property  of  "  Mr.  Lo ;"  and  once  a  cartridge  be 
comes  Indian  property,  there  is  only  one  way  of  stop 
ping  it.  The  wealth  of  France  is  inadequate  to  pur 
chase  of  Alfred  Krupp  a  single  gun  from  his  shops  at 
Essen,  because  his  love  for  Fatherland  will  not  let  him 
place  a  power  in  the  hands  of  the  hereditary  enemy. 
It  takes  enlightened  England  and  free  America  to  sup 
ply  friends  and  foes  alike  with  the  means  to  kill. 

Stannard  closes  his  glass  with  a  grunt  of  dissatisfac 
tion,  and  turns  to  Billings.  "  None  of  those  cartridges 
get  through  here  this  day  anyhow ;  but  how  many  do 

you  suppose  Mr. has  sent  up  there  already  ?"  And 

he  points  as  he  speaks  to  the  far  northwest. 

Under  that  blue  dome,  cloudless,  glaring ;  under  the 
sentinel  peaks  of  the  Big  Horn  shimmering  there  in 
the  distance,  over  the  rolling  divide  in  that  glorious 
upland  that  heaves  and  rolls  and  tosses  between  the 
Rosebud  and  the  swirling  stream  in  the  broad  valley 
farther  west,  another  regiment — that  of  which  we  spoke, 
whose  leader  is  famed  in  song  and  story — is  riding 
rapidly  this  still  Sunday  morning  in  search  of  Mr. 
's  cartridges.  Some  say  the  tall,  blue-eyed,  blond- 
bearded  captain  who  leads  that  beautiful  troop  of  bays 

js  Mr. 's  brother.  Odd  !  yet  how  can  the  Indian 

Bureau  know  that  Crazy  Horse  and  Two  Bears  and 

Kicking  Mule  want  to  buy  Mr.  's  bullets  to  kill 

his  brother  with?  How,  indeed,  should  Mr.  


A   JUNE  SUNDAY.  155 

know?  Army  officers,  'tis  true,  have  warned  them 
time  and  again;  but  when  were  army  officers'  state 
ments  ever  potent  in  the  Interior  Department  against 
the  unendorsed  assertion  of  Crazy  Horse  or  Kicking 
Mule  that  he  only  wanted  to  kill  buffalo  ?  Indeed, 
is  riot  Mr. himself  eager  to  go  bail  for  the  pur 
chaser,  since  his  profits  are  so  high?  Over  the  divide, 
hot  on  the  broad,  beaten  trail  goes  the  long  column. 
How  different  are  they  from  our  sombre  friends  of  the 
— th,  who,  miles  and  marches  away  to  the  southeast,  are 
dismounting  and  unsaddling  under  the  cottonwoods ! 
Years  in  Arizona  have  robbed  the  latter  of  all  the  old 
love  for  the  pomp  and  panoply  of  war.  There  is  not 
a  bit  of  finery  in  the  command,  there  is  hardly  a  ves 
tige  of  uniform ;  but  look  here,  look  here  at  the  bril 
liance  of  the  Seventh.  Bright  guidons  flutter  at  the 
head  of  every  troop  ;  bright  chevrons,  stripes,  and  but 
tons  gleam  on  the  dress  of  many  an  officer  and  man  ; 
the  steeds,  though  worn  and  jaded  with  an  almost 
ceaseless  trot  of  thirty-six  hours,  are  spirited  and  beau 
tiful  ;  some  are  gayly  decked.  Foremost  rides  their 
tried  leader,  clad  from  head  to  foot  in  beaded  buck 
skin.  "The  Long  Hair"  the  Sioux  still  call  him, 
though  now  the  long  hair  waves  not  on  the  breeze,  and 
an  auburn  beard  conceals  the  handsome  outline  of  the 
face  all  troopers  know  so  well.  Near  him  rides  his 
adjutant,  dressed  like  himself  in  their  favorite  buck 
skin,  so  too  are  others  among  the  officers,  though 
many  wear  the  jaunty  fatigue  uniform  of  the  cavalry, 
and  the  rank  and  file  are  all,  or  nearly  all,  in  blue. 
But  a  short  way  back  they  have  come  upon  the  scaf 
folding  sepulchre  of  Indian  warriors  lately  slain  in 


156  MARION'S  FAITH. 

battle ;  but  a  few  miles  ahead  they  see  a  broad  valley 
from  which,  far  from  south  to  north,  a  vast  dust-cloud 
is  rising,  and  for  this  there  can  be  but  one  explanation, 
—thousands  of  Indian  ponies  in  excited  motion.  Ay, 
scouts  in  advance  already  sight  indications  of  the  near 
presence  of  a  great  Indian  community,  and  the  column 
resolves  itself  into  three,  trotting  in  parallel  lines  across 
the  treeless  upland  a  mile  or  so  apart.  With  the  north 
ernmost,  the  largest,  rides  now  the  leader  of  all,  while 
between  them  gallop  couriers  carrying  rapid  orders. 
Every  face  sets  eagerly  westward.  Every  heart  beats 
high  with  the  thrill  of  coming  battle.  Some  there  are 
who  note  the  immensity  of  the  dust-cloud,  who  reason 
silently  that  for  miles  and  miles  the  valley  before  them 
is  covered  by  the  scurrying  herds ;  ten  thousand  ponies 
at  least  must  there  be  to  stir  up  such  a  volume  ;  then, 
how  many  warriors  are  there  to  meet  these  seven  hun 
dred  ?  No  matter  what  one  thinks,  not  a  man  falters. 
Far  to  the  south  the  snow  peaks  glisten  over  the 
pine-crested  range  of  the  Big  Horn.  Nearer  at  hand 
deep,  dark  caflons  burrow  in  towards  the  bowels  of  the 
mountains.  Then  from  their  bases  leap  the  rolling 
foot-hills,  brown  and  bare  but  for  the  dense  growth  of 
the  sun-cured  buffalo-grass.  Westward,  open  and  un 
dulating  sweeps  the  broad  expanse  of  almost  level 
valley  beyond  the  bluffs,  close  under  which  is  curling 
the  fatal  stream, — the  "  Greasy  Grass'7  of  the  Dakotas. 
Far  to  the  north  in  the  same  endless  waves  the  prairie 
rolls  to  the  horizon,  beyond  which  lies  the  shallow  river 
where  the  transports  are  toiling  up-stream  with  com 
rade  soldiery.  Behind  the  column,  eastward,  dip  the 
sheltered  valleys  of  the  Rosebud  and  the  breaks  of  the 


A   JUNE  SUNDAY.  157 

Tongue  among  the  Cheetish  Mountains;  and  there, 
not  fifty  miles  away  as  the  crow  flies,  the  soldiers  of 
the  Gray  Fox,  over  two  thousand  strong,  are  camped, 
awaiting  reinforcements  before  renewing  the  attempt  to 
advance  upon  these  lurking  bands  of  Sitting  Bull.  Not 
two  days'  march  away,  on  both  flanks,  are  four  times 
his  numbers  in  friends  and  allies ;  not  two  miles  away, 
in  his  front,  are  ten  times  his  force  in  foemen,  savage, 
but  skilled ;  yet  all  alone  and  unsupported,  the  Long 
Hair  rides  dauntlessly  to  the  attack,  even  though  he 
and  his  well  know  it  must  be  battle  to  the  death,  for 
Indian  warfare  knows  no  mercy. 

There  be  those  who  say  the  assault  was  rash ;  the 
speed  unauthorized ;  the  whole  effort  mad  as  Lucan's 
launch  of  the  Light  Brigade  at  Balaclava;  but  once 
there  in  view  of  the  fatal  valley,  the  sight  is  one  to  fire 
the  brain  of  any  trooper.  Galloping  to  a  little  mound 
to  the  right  front,  the  broad  expanse  lies  before  the 
leader's  eyes,  and  far  as  he  can  see,  out  to  the  west  and 
northwest,  the  dust-cloud  rises  heavily  over  the  prairie ; 
here  and  there,  nearer  at  hand,  are  the  scurrying  ponies 
and,  close  down  by  the  stream,  excited  bands  of  Indians 
tearing  down  lodge  after  lodge  and  preparing  for  rapid 
flight.  But  one  conclusion  can  he  draw.  They  are 
panic-stricken,  stampeded.  They  are  "on  the  run" 
already,  and  unless  attacked  at  once  can  never  be  over 
hauled.  They  will  scatter  over  the  face  of  the  wild 
Northwest  in  an  hour's  time.  He  cannot  see  what  we 
know  so  well  to-day  :  that  only  the  northern  limits  of 
the  great  villages  are  open  to  his  gaze  ;  that  the  shelter 
ing  bluffs  hide  from  him  all  the  crowded  lodges  of  the 
bands  farthest  to  the  south,  and  that  while  squaws  and 

14 


158  MARION'S  FAITH. 

children  are  indeed  being  hurried  off  to  the  west,  hun 
dreds,  thousands  of  exultant  young  warriors  are  gallop 
ing  in  from  the  western  prairies,  herding  the  war-ponies 
before  them.  He  cannot  see  the  scores  that,  rifle  in 
hand,  are  rushing  into  the  willows  and  cottonwoods 
along  the  stream,  eager  and  ready  to  welcome  his  com 
ing  ;  he  sends  hurried  orders  to  the  leaders  of  the  little 
columns  on  his  left :  "  Push  ahead ;  cross  the  stream ;  gal 
lop  northward  when  you  reach  the  western  bank,  and 
attack  that  end  of  the  village  while  I  strike  from  the 
east."  He  never  dreams  that  behind  that  solid  curtain 
of  bluff  Ogallalla,  Sans  Arc,  Uncapapa,  and  Blackfoot 
lurk  in  myriads.  "  The  biggest  Indian  village  on  the 
continent !"  they  say,  he  shouts  to  the  nearest  column  ; 
but  only  the  northern  limits  of  it  could  he  see.  Far, 
far  away  in  the  East  the  church-bells  are  ringing  out 
their  glad  welcome  to  the  God-given  day  of  rest. 
Mothers,  sisters,  wives,  lift  up  a  prayer  for  the  loved 
ones  on  the  savage  frontier.  Aloft  the  sun  in  cloudless 
splendor  looks  down  on  all.  Westward  press  the  com 
rade  columns,  until,  reaching  the  head  of  a  shallow 
ravine  that  leads  northwestward  towards  the  stream, 
the  Long  Hair  spurs  to  the  front, — Oh,  those  beautiful 
Kentucky  sorrels !  Oh,  those  gallant,  loyal  hearts  ! 
— and  the  eager,  bearded  faces,  the  erect,  athletic  forms, 
the  fluttering  guidons,  one  by  one  are  lost  to  view  as 
they  wind  away  down  the  coulee  ;  one  by  one  they  dis 
appear  from  sight,  from  hearing,  of  the  comrades  now 
trotting  down  the  bluffs  to  the  west.  Take  the  last 
look  upon  them,  fellows, — five  fated  companies.  Obedi 
ent  to  their  leader's  order,  loyal,  steadfast,  unmurmur 
ing  to  the  bitter  end,  they  vanish  once  and  for  all  from 


A   JUNE  SUNDAY  159 

loving  eyes      Only  as  gashed,  lifeless,  mutilated  forms 
will  we  ever  see  them  again. 

Who  has  not  read  the  story  of  the  Little  Horn? 
Why  repeat  it  here  ?  Who  that  was  there  will  ever 
forget  the  sight  that  burst  upon  the  astonished  eyes  of 
Reno's  men  when,  breaking  through  the  willows  along 
the  stream  and  reaching  the  level  bench,  they  saw,  not 
five  miles  away  to  the  north,  as  was  the  first  idea,  but 
here  in  their  very  front,  only  long  rifle-shot  away,  the 
southern  outskirts  of  the  great  Indian  metropolis  that 
stretched  away  for  miles  to  the  north.  God  of  battles  ! 
was  this  a  position,  was  this  a  force  to  be  assailed  by 
one  regiment  ?  Why  linger  over  it  ? — the  half-hearted 
advance  of  the  dismounted  skirmish  line ;  the  hesitat 
ing  rally ;  then  the  volley  from  the  willows  ;  the  flank 
ing  warriors  on  the  west ;  the  sudden  consciousness  of 
their  pitiful  numbers  as  against  the  hordes  now  swarm 
ing  upon  them ;  the  mad  rush  for  the  bluffs,  with  the 
yelling  Indians  dragging  the  rearmost  from  their  steeds 
and  butchering  them  as  they  rode ;  the  Henrys  and 
Winchesters  pumping  their  bullets  into  the  fleeing  mass ; 
the  plunge  into  the  seething  waters ;  the  panting 
scramble  up  the  steep  and  slippery  banks ;  the  breath 
less  halt  at  the  crest,  and  then,  then  the  backward 
glance  at  the  field  and  the  fallen.  Who  will  forget 
Mclntosh,  striving  to  rally  the  rearmost,  dragged  from 
the  saddle  and  hacked  to  death  upon  the  sward  ?  Who 
will  forget  Benny  Hodgson's  brave  young  face, — the 
pet,  the  pride  of  the  whole  regiment  ?  Even  the  dar 
ing  and  devotion  of  his  men  could  not  save  him  from 
the  hissing  lead  of  those  savage  marksmen.  Then  the 
strained  suspense,  the  h?If-hour's  listening  to  the  fierce, 


160  MARION'S   FAITH. 

the  awful  volleying  to  the  north  that  told  of  a  fearful 
struggle.  The  flutter  of  .  hope  that  it  might  be  the 
stronger  battalion  fighting  its  way  through  to  the  relief 
of  theirs,  the  weak  one ;  the  blank  faces  that  gazed  one 
into  another  with  awe-stricken  inquiry  as  trumpet  blare 
and  rallying  shout  and  rattling  volley  receded,  not  ap 
proached;  died  away,  not  thundered  anew  in  coming 
triumph ;  the  pall  of  certainty  that  fell  on  every  man 
when  silence  so  soon  reigned  in  the  distance,  and  pan 
demonium  broke  out  afresh  around  them.  Back  from 
their  bloody  work,  drunk  with  blood  and  victory,  came 
by  thousands  the  savage  warriors  to  swell  the  forces 
that  had  driven  the  white  soldiers  to  cover.  Up,  thank 
God  !  not  an  instant  too  soon,  came  the  comrades  from 
the  distant  left,  and  Benteen  and  MacDougall  riding  in 
with  four  full  companies  and  the  needed  ammunition 
gave  them  strength  to  hold  out.  Through  the  hours 
of  fierce  battle  that  followed,  through  that  dread  "  run 
ning  the  gauntlet"  for  water  that  the  wounded  craved, 
through  the  stern  suspense  and  strain  of  the  day  and 
night  that  intervened  before  the  rescuing  forces  of  Terry 
came  cautiously  up  the  valley,  and  the  Sioux  melted 
away  before  them,  ah  !  how  many  a  time  was  the 
question  asked,  "  What  can  have  become  of  Ouster  ?" 

Far,  far  to  the  east  this  still  Sabbath  afternoon, 
seeking  shelter  from  the  glare  of  the  same  blazing  sun, 
seeking  sympathy  from  each  other's  words,  seeking  hope 
and  comfort  from  Him  who  alone  can  aid,  a  little  group 
of  women  gather  at  the  frontier  fort  on  the  banks  of 
the  Missouri.  They  are  the  wives  of  the  officers  who 
that  morning  ride  "  into  the  Valley  of  Death"  with 
their  soldier  leader.  Fair  young  matrons  and  mothers, 


A   JUNE  SUNDAF.  161 

whose  thoughts  have  little  room  for  tue  glad  jubilee  in 
the  still  more  distant  East,  whose  world  is  with  that 
charging  column.  Only  a  few  days  since  there  came 
to  them  the  evil  news  that  the  Indians  had  forced  back 
the  soldiers  of  the  southern  Department, — that  meant 
harder  work,  fiercer  fighting  for  their  own.  And  this 
dread  anxiety  it  is  that  clusters  them  here,  lifting  up 
sweet  voices  in  their  hymn  of  praise  to  the  Heavenly 
Throne,  pleading,  pleading  for  the  life  and  safety  of 
those  who  are  their  all  in  all.  Oh,  God  !  there  is 
prophecy  in  the  very  words  of  their  mournful  song, 
though  they  know  it  not.  Pitying  Father,  listen,  and 
be  merciful. 

"E'en  though  it  be  a  Cross 
That  raiseth  me." 

Vain  the  trembling  hope,  vain  the  tearful  pleading. 
Far  out  on  the  slopes  of  the  Little  Horn  those  for 
whom  these  prayers  are  lifted  have  fought-  their  last 
battle.  God  has,  indeed,  asked  of  these  women  that 
henceforth  "  they  walk  on  in  the  shadow  and  alone." 


162  MARION'S  FAITH. 

CHAPTER    XL 

THE   WOLF   AND   THE   SHEEPFOLD. 

THE  glorious  Fourth  has  come  and  gone.  The 
Centennial  anniversary  has  had  its  completed  category 
of  parade  and  picnic ;  speech  and  song ;  fun  and  fire 
works.  The  thronging  cities  of-  the  East  have  rejoiced 
with  unusual  enthusiasm,  especially  Philadelphia,  whose 
coffers  are  plethoric  with  the  tribute  of  visiting  thou 
sands.  Out  OD  the  frontier  we  have  celebrated  with 
modified  6dat,  since  the  national  celebrants  are  mostly 
absent  on  active  service,  and  have  no  blank  cartridges 
to  dispose  of.  The  big  garrison  flags  have  been  duly 
hoisted  and  saluted.  The  troops  have  been  paraded 
where  there  were  any  to  parade,  as  only  a  few  infantry 
men  remain  to  take  care  of  the  forts  and  the  families. 
The  Declaration  of  Independence  has  been  read  in  one 
or  two  of  the  bigger  posts,  where  enough  remains  of 
defenders  to  make  up  a  fair-sized  demonstration.  One 
of  these  is  far  up  on  the  Missouri,  where  the  cavalry 
ladies  are  all  invited  to  hear  the  infantry  orator  of  the 
day — and  go.  No  news  has  come  for  some  time  from 
husbands  and  lovers  on  the  war-path,  and  it  is  best  to 
be  hopeful  and  cheery.  They  make  a  lovely  picture,  a 
dozen  of  them  in  their  dainty  white  dresses,  their  smil 
ing  faces,  their  fluttering  fans  and  ribbons.  They  ap 
plaud  each  telling  point  with  encouraging  bravos  and 
the  clapping  of  pretty  hands.  How  free  from  care, 


THE    WOLF  AND    THE  SHEEPFOLD.          1(J3 

how  joyous,  how  luxurious  is  army  life  !  How  gleeful 
is  their  silvery  laughter !  How  beaming  the  smiles 
with  which  they  reward  the  young  gallant  who  comes 
among  them  for  their  congratulations  !  Vanitas,  vani- 
tatum !  They  are  nearly  all  widowed,  poor  girls,  but 
they  don't  know  it — not  yet.  The  steamer  laden  with 
the  wounded  and  the  fell  tidings  of  disaster  is  but  a 
few  hours  away.  Before  the  breaking  of  another  day 
there  will  be  none  to  smile  in  all  their  number.  Verily, 
"  In  the  midst  of  life  we  are  in  death/' 

And  Russell,  too,  has  had  its  jubilee — on  a  more 
extensive  scale,  for  here  are  Webb  and  Truscott  with 
their  fine  troops  of  horse,  the  band,  the  infantry  com 
panies,  and  a  brace  of  old  howitzers,  with  which  they 
make  the  welkin  ring.  No  tidings  of  any  account  have 
come  from  the  front.  The  Gray  Fox  is  puzzled  at  the 
situation.  The  Indians  are  out  there  somewhere,  as  he 
finds  every  time  a  scout  goes  forth,  but  they  appear  to 
be  engrossed  in  some  big  council  over  at  the  Greasy 
Grass.  One  thing  is  certain,  he  can  get  no  word 
through  to  Terry  on  the  Yellowstone,  and  he  cannot 
afford  another  tussle  with  such  force  as  they  show  when 
he  does  come  out.  The  — th  is  still  down  near  the 
Black  Hills.  Busy  ?  Oh,  yes.  Busy  is  no  word  for 
it !  They  are  scampering  all  over  the  south  Cheyenne 
country  after  small  bands  of  Indians,  whose  fleet  ponies 
keep  them  just  out  of  range  of  the  carbines  and  just 
out  of  reach  of  the  horses,  who,  grain-fed  all  winter, 
are  now  losing  speed,  strength,  and  bottom  on  the  scant 
and  wiry  grass  they  find  in  the  sandy  valleys.  Trus 
cott  and  Webb  are  eager  to  go  forward,  but  orders  say 
wait.  Mrs.  Truscott  is  again  almost  in  heaven.  Jack 


164  MARION'S  FAITH. 

has  been  with  her  nearly  a  fortnight.  They  are  domi 
ciled  in  their  new  quarters.  Mrs.  Stannard  is  their 
next-door  neighbor ;  much  of  their  furniture  has  come, 
and  the  army  home  is  beginning  to  look  lovely.  Mrs. 
Whaling  and  Mrs.  Turner  can  never  see  enough  of  it, 
or  say  enough. 

Large  numbers  of  recruits  have  been  sent  to  the  post 
to  be  drilled  and  forwarded  to  the  cavalry  at  the  front. 
They  are  having  riding-school  all  hours  of  the  day,  and 
the  cavalry  officers  are  in  saddle  from  morn  till  night 
teaching  them.  Mr.  Gleason  is  assiduous  in  this  duty. 
Whatever  Captain  Truscott  has  heard  to  the  gentle 
man's  discredit  in  the  past,  he  admits  to  himself  that  it 
has  prepared  him  for  agreeable  disappointment.  No 
lieutenant  could  be  more  attentive  or  subordinate,  more 
determined  to  please.  Captain  Truscott  cannot  but 
wish  that  Mr.  Gleason  were  less  attentive  to  Miss  San- 
ford,  but  that  young  lady  is  evidently  fully  able  to  keep 
him  at  a  very  pleasant  distance.  It  excites  the  captain's 
admiration  to  see  how  perfectly  lady-like,  how  really 
gracious  is  her  manner  to  the  aspiring  widower,  and 
yet — how  serenely  unencouraging.  No  one  understood 
this  better  than  Mr.  Gleason  himself.  Finding  her 
deeper,  less  impressionable  than  he  at  first  supposed,  he 
simply  changed  his  tactics.  He  avoided  the  store,  he 
shunned  conversations  on  dangerous  topics,  he  cultivated 
the  society  of  Colonel  Whaling,  and  deeply  impressed 
that  veteran  with  the  depth  of  his  information  on  dogs, 
horses,  and  military  affairs.  He  dexterously  lost  small 
sums  to  the  post  commander  at  pool  and  billiards ; 
enough  to  keep  the  old  gentleman  in  cigars — and  good- 
humor.  He  became  "  serious"  in  his  conversation  with 


THE  WOLF  AND  THE  SHEEPFOLD.    165 

the  colonel's  amiable  wife,  whose  exemplary  habit  it 
was  to  be  always  found  seated  at  a  little  table  behind  a 
very  big  Bible  when  visitors  called  ;  though  the  garri 
son  did  say,  as  garrisons  will,  that  occasionally  they 
had  to  knock  or  ring  half  a  dozen  times  before  the 
summons  could  be  heard;  not  because  the  good  lady 
was  so  deeply  plunged  in  religious  meditation,  but  be 
cause  the  clatter  of  angry  tongues  made  all  demonstra 
tion  from  without  simply  inaudible. 

The  long-suffering  and  short-serving  domestics  who 
successively  reigned  in  the  Whaling  kitchen  and  cham 
bers  were  wont  to  say  that  it  was  nag  and  scold  from 
morn  till  dewy  eve, — sometimes  later, — and  that  in 
the  midst  of  wrathful  tirade  the  lady  of  the  house 
would  only  be  brought  to  instant  silence  by  the  an 
nouncement  of  "  some  one  at  the  door."  A  certain 
Miss  Finnegan,  who  served  a  brief  apprenticeship  in 
the  household,  acquired  lasting  fame  in  the  garrison 
for  the  mimetic  power  which  enabled  her  to  portray 
"Mrs.  GineraPs"  instantaneous  change  from  a  posture 
of  fury  to  one  of  rapt  devotion.  She  could  look  like 
Hecate  Hibernicized,  and  in  one  comprehensive  second 
drop  into  a  chair,  "smooth  her  wrinkled  front"  and 
side  curls,  shake  out  her  rumpled  draperies,  and  rise 
from  an  instant's  searching  of  the  Scriptures  with 
features  expressive  of  the  very  acme  of  Christian  peace 
and  benediction.  "  Mrs.  General"  was  a  pet-name  the 
lady  had  won  from  a  wifely  and  lovable  trait  that 
prompted  her  to  aggrandize  her  placid  lord  above  his 
deserts.  Him  she  ever  addressed  (in  public),  and  of 
him  she  ever  spoke,  as  "  the  general,"  irrespective  of 
the  fact  that  the  rank  was  one  he  never  had  or  never 


166  MARIONS  FAITH. 

would  attain,  even  by  brevet,  for  the  Senate  drew  the 
line  at  the  man  who  had  been  in  the  army  through 
three  wars  and  never  heard  a  hostile  bullet  whistle. 
His  regiment  had  not  been  required  in  the  Florida 
business.  He  himself  was  put  on  other  duty  when 
they  went  to  Mexico,  and,  finally,  in  the  great  war  of 
the  Rebellion,  there  was  constant  need  of  regulars  to 
act  as  mustering  and  disbursing  officers  at  the  rear. 
Such  had  been  old  Whaling's  career,  and,  so  long  as 
he  himself  was  utterly  unpretentious, — never  claimed 
to  have  done  any  war  service,  and  was  content  to  drift 
along  and  draw  his  pay, — nobody  would  have  said 
much  in  detraction  had  it  not  been  for  his  wife's  per 
sistent  pushing.  He  was  merely  second  in  command 
of  his  regiment,  but  the  lady  spoke  of  him  as  "  the 
general"  on  all  occasions,  and  alluded  to  his  immediate 
superior,  who  had  led  corps  and  divisions  in  his  day, 
as  Colonel  Starr.  Others — of  equal  rank  and  with 
the  brevets  of  major-generals — she  similarly  belittled. 
They  were  merely  field-officers.  She  admitted  the  ex 
istence  of  no  greater  man  than  "  the  general,"  her  hus 
band,  and  whatever  might  be  the  sorrows  of  other 
parents  with  their  children,  or  housewives  with  their 
servants,  Mrs.  Whaling  pitied, — even  condoled, — but 
could  not  sympathize.  With  uplifted  eyes  she  would 
thank  the  Giver  of  all  good  that  He  had  blessed  her 
with  sons  so  noble  and  distinguished,  with  daughters 
so  lovely  and  so  dutiful,  with  servants  so  singularly 
devoted.  In  the  various  garrisons  in  which  the  good 
lady  had  flourished,  what  mattered  it  that  her  boys  were 
known  to  be  graceless  young  scamps  whom  cudgelling 
could  not  benefit,  or  that  her  gentle  daughters  squab- 


THE   WOLF  AND   THE  SHEEPFOLD.          167 

bled  like  cats  and  flew  to  the  neighbors  to  spread  the 
tales  of  their  wrongs  and  mamma's  injustice?  What 
mattered  it  that  her  paragons  of  servants  left  her  one 
after  another  and  swore  they  couldn't  stay  in  a  house 
where  there  was  so  much  spying  and  fault-finding? 
There  was  no  shaking  Mrs.  Whaling's  Christian  deter 
mination  to  run  with  patience  the  race  thus  set  before 
her. 

Gleason  found  in  converse  with  her  so  much  that 
reminded  him  of  the  mother  he  had  lost,  alas !  so 
many  years  ago,  and  Mrs.  Whaling  welcomed  him  to 
the  consolations  of  her  sanctified  spirit.  Together  they 
deplored  the  frivolity  and  vices  of  the  younger  officers 
(Ray  came  in  for  a  good  sho wing-up  just  there,  no 
doubt),  and  together  they  projected  the  reformation  of 
some  of  her  favorites  in  the  garrison.  A  wise  man 
was  Gleason.  She  and  her  meek  and  lowly  husband 
could  be  useful — very  useful  in  time  of  need.  And 
did  he  abandon  his  devotions  to  Miss  Sanford  ?  No, 
indeed  !  but  they  were  modified  as  became  the  subject. 
He  called  less  frequently ;  he  became  less  personal,  less 
aggressive  in  his  talk;  he  had  naught  but  good,  or 
silence,  for  his  comrades,  and  charity  for  the  world. 
He  threw  into  his  every  look  and  word  a  deference  and 
a  respect  that  made  his  manner  proof  against  criticism  ; 
and  yet,  one  and  all,  they  could  not  welcome  him. 
Truscott,  his  captain,  had  never  yet  dropped  the  "  Mr." 
before  the  surname  of  his  subaltern, — that  well-under 
stood  barrier  to  all  army  intimacy, — and  H  Reason,  who 
stood  among  the  very  first  on  the  lineal  list  of  lieuten 
ants,  hated  him  for  the  restriction,  but  gave  no  sign. 

It  was  necessary  that  some  one  of  the  cavalry  officers 


168  MARION'S  FAITH. 

should  be  placed  in  charge  of  the  newly-arrived  recruits, 
and  this  duty  fell  to  Gleason's  lot.  It  relieved  him 
from  service  with  his  troop  and  made  him  independent 
of  his  captain.  Webb  and  Truscott,  if  consulted, 
would  have  named  a  far  better  instructor  among  their 
lieutenants,  but  Colonel  Whaling  issued  the  order  from 
post  headquarters,  and  there  was  nothing  for  it  but 
obey.  Gleason  lent  his  best  efforts  to  the  work,  and 
he  and  his  drill  sergeants  were  ceaseless  in  their  squad 
instruction.  Several  old  cavalrymen  had  come  among 
the  dozens  of  green  hands,  so  had  a  small  squad  trans 
ferred  by  War  Department  orders  from  West  Point. 
Among  these  men  were  competent  drill-masters,  and 
among  the  drill-masters  the  most  active  and  efficient 
was  the  Saxon  soldier,  Sergeant  Wolf. 

Mr.  Gleason  had  invited  the  ladies  to  walk  out  on 
the  prairie  east  of  the  post  one  lovely  morning  late  in 
June,  that  they  might  see  the  skirmish  drills  of  the 
two  cavalry  troops.  Often  as  she  had  been  a  spectator 
before,  Mrs.  Truscott  never  tired  of  watching  Jack  and 
his  men,  and  Miss  Sanford  was  greatly  interested  at  all 
times  in  the  martial  exercises,  especially  the  mounted. 
Strolling  homeward  about  ten  o'clock,  having  been 
joined  by  one  of  the  young  infantry  officers,  Mr.  Glea 
son  suggested  their  stopping  at  the  store  and  refreshing 
themselves  with  a  lemonade.  Miss  Sanford  would  have 
declined  with  thanks,  but  silently  waited  for  her  hostess 
to  speak;  and  Mrs.  Truscott,  who  remembered  how 
papa  had  sometimes  called  her  into  the  club-room  when 
she  was  a  child,  and  who  knew  that  the  garrison  ladies 
frequently  accepted  such  invitations,  hesitatingly  as 
sented.  It  must  be  confessed  that  Mrs.  Truscott  some- 


THE  WOLF  AND  THE  SHEEPFOLD.    169 

times  acted  before  she  thought,  and  this  was  one  of  the 
times.  Truscott  himself  rarely,  if  ever,  entered  the 
club-room,  and  had  never  thought  it  necessary  to  say 
anything  to  his  wife  on  the  subject.  The  door  stood 
invitingly  open ;  the  attendant  was  lolling  thereat  in 
his  shirt-sleeves  admiringly  scanning  the  approaching 
group,  As  soon  as  he  saw  they  were  heading  for  the 
club-room  instead  of  the  gate,  he  slipped  behind  the 
bar  and  put  on  his  coat.  Miss  Sanford  hung  back  as 
Mr.  Gleason  threw  open  the  portals,  and  called  out  en- 
cou  ragingly , — 

"  Come  right  in,  ladies ;  there's  no  one  here  but  the 
bar-keeper." 

Mrs.  Truscott  stepped  lightly  over  the  threshold,  and 
glanced  with  smiling  curiosity  around.  The  first  thing 
that  caught  her  eye  was  a  placard  hanging  at  the  en 
trance  of  a  little  alcove-like  space  beyond  the  rusty  old 
billiard-tables.  Within  were  two  or  three  green  baize- 
covered  card-tables  and  rude  wooden  chairs.  On  the 
placard,  roughly  stencilled,  was  the  legend, — 

"  He  who  enters  here  leaves  soap  behind." 

Mrs.  Truscott's  eyes  expressed  wonderment  and  mirth 
commingled. 

"  How  utterly  absurd  !    Who  did  that,  Mr.  Gleason  ?" 

"  That?  Oh  !  That's  some  of  Blake's  work,  I  be 
lieve  !  Ah — are  you  not  coming  in,  Miss  Sanford?" 

"  Thanks,  no,  Mr.  Gleason  ;  I  believe  I'll  wait  here," 
was  the  reply,  pleasant  but  decided. 

"  Why,  Marion  !  Do  come  in  !"  cried  Mrs.  Truscott, 
hastening  to  the  door. 

H  16 


170  MARION'S  FAITH. 

Miss  Sanford's  face  was  flushing  slightly,  but  her 
voice  was  gentle  as  usual. 

"  I'll  wait  for  you,  Grace ;  but  I  do  not  care  for  a 
lemonade,  and — would  rather  not  go  in." 

"  Indeed,  I  don't  care  for  one  either.  I  only  said  yes 
because  I  thought,  perhaps,  you  would  like  it — or  would 
care  to  see  the  club-room,"  Mrs.  Truscott  protested,  as 
she  hurriedly  came  forth.  "  We  are  just  as  much 
obliged  to  you,  Mr.  Gleason,  but — not  to-day."  And 
with  that  they  resumed  their  homeward  stroll.  Once 
through  the  gate  Mr.  Gleason  slackened  the  pace,  so  as 
to  detain  his  fair  companion  a  moment. 

"  Why  would  you  decline  my  invitation  ?"  he  asked, 
in  a  tone  of  what  was  intended  to  be  tender  reproach. 

"I  prefer  not  to  visit — the  club-room,  as  I  believe 
it  is  called." 

"  You  would  soon  get  used  to  it  if  you  were  in  the 
Army,"  he  ventured  awkwardly. 

"  But  I  am  not  in  the  Army,"  she  began,  self-re 
strained  ly  enough ;  then,  as  though  she  could  not  re 
press  the  words,  "  Nor  would  I  be  if,  as  you  say,  I  had 
to  get  used  to  that." 

She  has  a  temper  then,  quoth  Gleason  to  himself, 
ruefully  noting  that  he  had  made  a  bad  move.  It  gave 
him  an  opportunity  of  putting  in  what  was  generally 
considered  a  pretty  effective  piece  of  work,  however, — 
one  that  had  been  often  employed  on  somewhat  similar 
occasions,  and  will  be  again. 

"Ah,  Miss  Sanford,  were  there  more  women  like 
you,  there  would  be  fewer  places  like  that." 

But  to  this  she  made  no  reply  whatsoever.  If  any 
thing,  its  effect  was  to  quicken  her  pace. 


THE    WOLF  AND   THE  SHEEPFOLD.          171 

Arriving  near  their  quarters,  a  small  party  of  enlisted 
men,  apparently  recruits,  were  observed  clustered  about 
a  wagon  loaded  with  boxes.  A  spruce,  handsome, 
blond-moustached  young  soldier  stepped  suddenly  into 
view  from  behind  the  wagon,  where  he  had  been  super 
intending  the  unloading  of  some  of  the  goods.  At 
sight  of  him  Miss  Sanford  stopped  short.  Looking 
wonderingly  at  her,  Mr.  Gleason  saw  that  her  face 
had  paled,  and  that  she  was  gazing  intently  on  the 
approaching  soldier  and  on  Mrs.  Truscott,  who,  ab 
sorbed  in  laughing  talk  with  her  escort,  had  appar 
ently  not  observed  him.  As  he  halted  and  saluted, 
Mr.  Gleason  could  not  but  note  that  she  started,  then 
that  she  had  flushed  crimson.  He  glanced  quickly 
from  one  to  the  other, — the  pale  girl  by  his  side,  the 
startled  young  matron  in  front,  and  the  statuesque 
soldier,  respectfully  standing  with  his  hand  at  the  cap 
visor. 

"  Pardon,  madame ;  the  quartermaster  sends  me  to 
unload  these  boxes  at  Captain  Truscott's  quarters,  if 
madame  will  designate  the  room  to  which  they  shall  be 
carried." 

"  The  captain  will  be  here  in  a  moment,"  she  replied, 
hurriedly,  and  moving  into  the  gate  as  though  eager  to 
avoid  the  very  presence  of  the  soldier.  "  Oh  !  may  I 
ask  you  in,  gentlemen  ?"  she  added,  glancing  over  her 
shoulder,  and  still  evidently  discomposed. 

And  Gleason  followed. 

The  parlor  was  cool  and  pleasant  after  the  hot  sun 
shine  without.  Mrs.  Truscott  threw  herself  into  a 
chair,  then  rose  as  hastily  and  went  into  the  dining- 
room  beyond.  Miss  Sanford V  eyes  followed  her  anx- 


172  MARIONS  FAITH. 

iously  as  she  stood  at  the  sideboard  pouring  out  a  glass 
of  water. 

"  That  man — er — Wolf,  who  came  with  this  batch 
of  recruits,  tells  me  he  was  first  sergeant  of  Captain 
Truscott's  troop  at  the  Point,"  he  said,  tentatively. 

"  Yes.     When  did  he  get  here,  or  how  ?" 

"  He  came  with  recruits  two  nights  ago ;  transferred 
from  West  Point  with  some  other  men  on  the  captain's 
application,  as  I  understand  it.  I  presume  he  is  to  be 
assigned  to  our  troop." 

And  here  the  clatter  of  hoofs  outside  announced  .the 
captain's  return  from  drill,  and  Gleason  soon  took  his 
leave,  pondering  over  what  he  had  seen.  What  was 
the  secret  of  Mrs.  Truscott's  evident  uneasiness,  if  not 
agitation  ?  what  of  Miss  Sanford's  visible  annoyance  ? 

It  was  very  late  that  night  when  Miss  San  ford  sought 
her  room.  There  had  been  a  drive  to  town  during  the 
afternoon,  and  a  pleasant  dance  at  the  hop-room  after 
wards.  Not  once  had  she  had  an  opportunity  of  speak 
ing  alone  with  Mrs.  Truscott,  nor  was  she  quite  certain 
of  what  she  wished  to  say  even  had  the  opportunity 
occurred.  For  several  days  previous  to  their  start  from 
the  Point,  Sergeant  Wolf,  with  others  of  the  cavalry 
detachment,  had  been  constantly  at  the  house  packing 
goods  and  furniture.  Nothing  could  exceed  the  punc 
tilious  distance  and  respect  with  which  he  addressed  the 
ladies  whenever  occasion  required  that  he  should  speak 
to  them  at  all ;  but  Miss  Sanford  could  not  forget  his 
mysterious  conduct  the  night  she  discovered  him  at  the 
front  gate.  Once  she  spoke  with  half-laughing  hesi 
tancy  of  the  assiduity  with  which  the  sergeant  devoted 
all  his  spare  time  to  his  captain's  service,  or  to  madame's, 


THE    WOLF  AND    THE  SHEEPFOLD.          173 

and  Grace"  had  looked  so  annoyed  that  she  ceased  fur 
ther  mention  of  him.     She  wanted  to  tell  her  of  his 
being  at  the  gate  that  night,  and  his  going  around  under 
the  library-window,  but  it  proved  a  difficult  thing,  and 
she  postponed  it  from   day  to  day.      Then  came  the 
sudden  departure  of  the  sergeant  and  his  party  for  New 
York,  where  they  were  ordered  to  report  at  a  recruiting 
rendezvous.     Believing  that  they  had  seen  the  last  of 
him  she  breathed  freer,  and  decided  to  keep  the  story 
of  his  midnight  visit  to  herself,  at  least  for  a  time ;  and 
now  here  he  was  again,  and  his  coming  had  evidently 
startled  her  friend.     She  wanted,  above  all  things,  to 
have  a  frank  talk  with  Mrs.  Truscott.    This  keeping  a 
secret  from  her  was  distressing,  and  she  could  not  bear 
the  thought  of  a  possible  cloud  or  misunderstanding 
between  them,  but  poor  Grace  had  totally  forgotten  the 
existence  of  such  a  person  as  Wolf  by  the  time  they 
got  home.    She  was  having  a  little  trouble  of  her  own. 
They  were  strolling  across  the  parade  in  the  brilliant 
moonlight,  Grace  on  her  stalwart  husband's  arm,  look 
ing  up  in  his  face  with  all  her  soul  in  her  eyes,  chatting 
merrily  over  the  events  of  the  day.    Miss  Sanford  was 
amiably  listening  to  the  dissertation  of   an   infantry 
friend  upon  astronomical  matters,  while  Gleason  was 
elsewhere  escorting  Mrs.  Whaling.     At  the  door  Trus 
cott  looked  back   and   hospitably  invited   the   young 
officer  to  enter,  but  the  latter  doffed  his  cap  and  gal 
lantly  said  something  to  the  effect,  that  all  who  entered 
left  their  hearts  behind,  and  took  himself  off  with  the 
conviction  that  he  had  made  a  glowing  impression.     It 
reminded  Mrs.  Truscott  of  the  stencil  inscription  over 
the  local  Inferno. 

15* 


174  MARION'S  FAITH. 

"  Oh,  Jack  !  Have  you  seen  Mr.  Blake's" latest  ab 
surdity, — that  slangy  paraphrase  of  Dante  at  the  club- 
room  ?" 

"  I  heard  of  it,"  said  Truscott,  smilingly.  "  Who 
told  you  of  it,  Queenie?" 

"  Why  ! — I — saw  it  to-day,"  she  replied,  as  though 
suddenly  conscious  that  she  had  put  her  foot  on  forbid 
den  ground.  Then,  as  he  said  nothing  whatever,  she 
went  on  in  anxious  explanation  :  "  Mr.  Gleason  asked 
us  in  to  have  a  lemonade  on  our  way  from  drill.  You 
know  the  ladies  often  go,  Jack." 

"  I  know  some  of  them  do,  Gracie." 

"  Ought  we  not  to  have  gone — I  mean,  ought  I  not 
to  have  gone?  for  Marion  would  not.  Indeed,  Jack, 
the  moment  I  saw  she  had  not  come  in  I  left  at  once. 
Was  it — are  you  vexed  ?" 

"There's  no  great  harm  done,  dear.  I  had  not 
thought  to  warn  you  against  it,  though  I  knew  the 
others — some  of  them,  went  there  at  times." 

"  You  mean  you  had  not  supposed  it  would  be  neces 
sary,  Jack." 

And  so,  it  must  be  admitted,  he  had ;  and  poor 
Grace  was  in  the  depths  as  a  natural  consequence.  It 
was  the  first  time  she  had  felt  that  he  was  disappointed 
in  her,  and  though  the  matter  was  trivial  and  his  loving 
kiss  and  caress  reassured  her,  she  was  plunged  in  dis 
may  to  think  that  in  entering  the  club-room  with  Mr. 
Gleason  she  had  done  what  he  disapproved  of,  what, 
as  a  woman  of  refined  breeding,  she  should  have 
shunned,  and — what  Marion  had  declined.  She  was 
too  much  a  woman  not  to  feel  that  therein  lay  an  addi 
tional  sting ;  she  was  too  gentle  and  loving  a  wife  not 


THE    WOLF  AND    THE  SHEEPFOLD.          175 

to  feel  forlorn  at  thought  of  having  disappointed  Jack. 
Some  women  would  have  resented  the  idea  of  his  ob 
jecting  to  such  a  thing.  (No,  fair  reader,  of  course  I 
don't  mean  you ;  but  is  it  not  just  possible  I  may  be 
right  in  saying  so  of  Mrs. next  door  ?) 

Grace  had  kissed  her  friend  good-night  just  a  wee 
bit  less  affectionately  than  usual,  and  Marion  well  knew 
that  husband  and  wife  were  best  left  alone  together,  as 
the  surest  and  speediest  way  of  settling  the  affair.  She, 
therefore,  went  to  her  room. 

There  were  only  two  rooms  up-stairs  in  the  little 
army  house,  each  with  its  big  closet,  a  door  connecting 
the  two,  and  others  opening  out  on  the  narrow  landing 
above  the  stairs ;  each  with  its  sharply  sloping  roof 
and  dormer-window.  Grace  had  insisted  on  her  guest's 
taking  the  front  room,  looking  out  on  the  parade  as  she 
had  at  the  Point ;  but  after  much  laughing  discussion 
they  settled  it  by  pulling  straws,  as  many  a  question 
had  been  decided  in  the  old  school  days.  This  reversed 
the  assignment,  and  the  rear  room  became  Miss  San- 
ford's.  The  view  from  the  window  was  not  attractive. 
Immediately  beneath  was  the  shingle  roofing  of  the 
dining-room  and  kitchen  annex,  stretching  out  to  the 
servants'  rooms  and  sheds  beyond.  The  yard,  like  all 
its  fellows,  was  bare  and  brown,  for  nothing  would 
grow  on  such  a  soil.  Rough,  unpainted  wooden  fences 
separated  them  one  from  another;  rough  cow-shed.s, 
coal-sheds,  or  wood-sheds  were  braced  up  against  the 
fences,  and  back  of  all  the  yards  along  the  row  ran  a 
high  rickety  barrier  of  boards,  as  rough  and  unprepos 
sessing  as  the  others.  Beyond  this  fence  lay  a  triangular 
space  of  open  prairie  ornamented  only  by  ash-barrels 


176  MARION'S  FAITH: 

and  occasional  heaps  of  empty  cans  awaiting  the  coming 
of  the  "  police  cart."  Beyond  this  space  stood  the  big 
brown  hospital  on  the  north ;  the  back-yards  of  the 
surgeon's  and  sutler's  quarters  on  the  east ;  while  the 
hypothenuse  of  the  right-angled  triangle  thus  limited 
was  the  unsightly  fence  that  bounded  the  back-yards 
of  officers'  row.  Mr.  Dick  Swiveller's  delightful  view 
"  of  over  the  way"  was  a  gem  of  landscape  in  compar 
ison. 

But  for  such  gloomy  outlook  Miss  Sanford  had  little 
thought.  She  went  to  the  window  to  draw  the  curtain, 
and  far  out  across  the  distant  prairie  slopes,  where  she 
could  see  them  at  all,  the  moon  was  throwing  her  sil 
very  beams,  while  closer  at  hand  broad,  irregular  wastes 
of  blackness  sailed  over  the  dry  plateau  as  the  clouds 
that  caused  them  drifted  across  the  dazzling  face. 
Harsh  and  unlovely  as  were  the  surroundings  by  day, 
they  lost  something  of  their  asperity  under  the  soften 
ing  shimmer  of  that  mystic  light.  Far  down  by  the 
stables  she  could  hear  the  ringing  watch-call  of  the 
sentries  proclaiming  half-past  twelve  o'clock  and  all 
well,  and  then — and  then  as  a  cloud  floated  away  and 
the  bright  beams  poured  down  in  unhindered  radiance, 
she  became  aware  of  a  form  enveloped  in  a  cavalry 
overcoat  standing  in  the  corner  of  the  fence.  She 
could  see  the  moonlight  glinting  on  the  polished  insig 
nia, — the  crossed  sabres, — on  the  front  of  his  forage 
cap,  and  though  she  could  not  see  the  face,  she  knew  it 
was  that  of  Sergeant  Wolf. 

Captain  and  Mrs.  Truscott  were  still  below.  She  could 
hear  them  putting  out  the  parlor  lamps  and  locking  the 
doors.  She  could  hear  a  quick  footstep  on  the  hard- 


A   SERENADE.  177 

beaten  walk  in  front  and  the  clink  of  a  scabbard,  and 
knew  it  must  be  the  officer  of  the  day  starting  out  to 
make  his  rounds.  So  too,  apparently,  did  the  myste 
rious  prowler  in  the  back-yard.  He  stepped  quickly  out 
of  the  enclosure,  and  the  next  instant  she  could  see  the 
erect,  soldierly  figure  moving  rapidly  away  towards  the 
northwestern  entrance  of  the  post,  where  lay  the  band's 
quarters. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

A   SERENADE. 

"  NEWS  from  Mr.  Ray  I"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Stannard, 
as  she  came  in  all  smiles  and  sunshine  the  morning 
after  the  Fourth.  "  Just  think  of  it,  Captain  Truscott ! 
the  major  says  they  were  all  wondering  when  they  could 
hope  to  get  letters  from  home,  when  who  should  come 
trotting  into  camp  but  Ray  with  a  bagful.  He  found 
a  couple  of  men  at  Laramie  who  had  been  left  behind 
when  the  regiment  went  through,  and  the  three  of 
them  slipped  off  together,  and  by  riding  all  night 
managed  to  escape  the  Indians.  Did  you  ever  know 
such  a  reckless  fellow  ?" 

Truscott  shook  his  head.  "  I  wish  Ray  would  be 
more  prudent.  If  there  were  any  occasion  for  such  a 
risk  'twould  be  a  different  thing " 

"But  there  was"  said  Mrs.  Stannard,  promptly. 
"  The  commanding  officer  at  Laramie  had  received  im- 


178  MARION'S  FAITH. 

portant  orders  for  the  — th  by  telegraph,  and  he  didn't 
know  how  to  get  them  through.  No  scouts  or  runners 
were  in.  Ray  got  there  the  evening  before,  and  the 
moment  he  heard  of  it  he  went  right  to  the  colonel  and 
begged  to  be  allowed  to  go.  It  seems  that  trouble  is 
expected  at  the  agency/'  she  continued.  "  The  major 
sends  just  a  few  lines  to  say  they  expect  to  leave  the 
Cheyenne  valley  and  go  right  in  there.  The  pickets 
have  chased  Indians  coming  from  the  northwest, — run 
ners  from  Sitting  Bull,  they  say, — and  the  officers  do 
not  like  the  looks  of  things." 

Truscott's  face  was  very  grave  but  his  manner  was 
unchanged.  Mrs.  Grace  and  her  friend  had  risen  from 
the  breakfast-table  to  welcome  their  ex-hostess  and 
valued  neighbor,  and  the  three  ladies  looked  as  though 
news  from  the  front  brought  far  more  of  anxiety  than 
comfort.  Before  anything  further  was  said  there  came 
a  light  tap  at  the  door,  and  Mrs.  Turner  fluttered  in, 
bewitchingly  pretty  in  her  white  muslin,  with  bright- 
colored  ribbons.  There  were  ill-natured  people  who 
observed  at  times  of  Mrs.  Turner  that  she  took  far 
more  pains  with  her  dress  when  the  captain  was  away 
on  campaign  and  "  the  doughboys"  were  running  the 
garrison,  than  she  did  when  her  liege  lord  was  at  home. 
Of  this  we  cannot  speak  advisedly.  Certain  it  is  that 
on  this  particularly  bright,  glorious  sunshiny  morning 
of  the  fifth  of  July  in  the  Centennial  year,  Mrs.  Tur 
ner  was  most  becomingly  attired. 

"  I  wouldn't  have  intruded  at  so  unconventional  an 
hour  only  I  saw  Mrs.  Stannard  come  running  in  ;  I 
knew  she  had  a  letter,  and  so  had  I.  Isn't  it  horrid  ? 
Captain  Turner  says  it  looks  as  though  they  might  be 


A   SERENADE.  179 

out  all  summer  !  Oh,  Miss  Sanford  !  I'm  so  glad  you 
are  dressed  and  ready,  for  the  ambulance  is  coming 
around  now,  and  I  know  you  and  Mrs.  Truscott  want 
to  go  in  this  morning  and  see  Mrs.  Wing's  new  goods. 
She  opened  yesterday,  you  know,  and  Mrs.  Wilkins 
says  all  the  bonnets  are  fresh  from  New  York  and 
lovely.  You  will  go,  won't  you  ?  Come  just  as  you 
are.  You'll  only  need  a  light  wrap,  for  the  sun  is  very 
warm." 

Why  is  it  that  when  one  woman  knows  herself  to  be 
tastefully  and  becomingly  dressed,  she  is  so  eager  to 
assure  others  who  are  to  accompany  her  that  they  need 
nothing  by  way  of  adornment  ?  The  ambulance  was 
at  the  door.  The  visit  to  town  had  been  contemplated 
for  two  or  three  days,  so  matters  were  quickly  arranged. 
There  was  abundant  room,  and  Mrs.  Stannard  decided 
to  go  too. 

In  a  few  minutes  half  a  dozen  ladies  in  their  airy 
summer  costumes  were  gathered  around  the  Concord 
wagon,  ordinarily  referred  to  as  "  the  ambulance."  Mr. 
Gleason  was  promptly  on  hand  with  other  officers  to 
assist;  the  band  was  just  marching  away  towards  its 
quarters,  when  Miss  Sanford's  quick  eye  was  attracted 
by  the  sight  of  some  evident  commotion  at  the  adju 
tant's  office  at  the  west  end  ;  one  soldier  was  running 
at  full  speed  in  pursuit  of  the  old  and  new  officers  of 
the  day,  who  were  descending  the  slope  to  the  creek 
valley,  another  soldier — the  commanding  officer's  or 
derly — came  running  down  the  road  towards  the  party. 

She  was  already  seated,  as  were  most  of  the  others. 
Mrs.  Turner  sprang  lightly  in,  and  coquettishly  kissed 
her  hand  to  the  group  of  officers  on  the  walk. 


180  MARIO W S  FAITH. 

"  Go  on,  driver/'  she  said. 

"  One  moment,  Mrs.  Turner ;  please  wait.  T  think 
something  is  the  matter.  Look  !" 

And  Miss  Sanford  pointed  to  the  running  men.  All 
eyes  were  instantly  fixed  on  the  orderly.  He  came  up, 
well  nigh  breathless. 

"  Captain  Truscott !  gentlemen  !  The  commanding 
officer's  compliments,  and  desires  to  see  all  the  officers 
at  once." 

The  group  started  at  the  instant.  Truscott  turned 
and  held  out  his  hands  to  his  wife. 

"With  the  quick  intuition  of  a  woman  accustomed  to 
"  war's  alarms,"  she  felt  that  evil  tidings  had  come,  and 
was  already  starting  to  leave  the  carriage. 

"  Oh  !  what  can  it  be  ?"  almost  wailed  Mrs.  Turner. 
»"  Do  you  know,  orderly  ?" 

"  It's  been  a  big  battle,  ma'am,  and  they  say  General 
Ouster  and  lots  of  officers  is  killed." 

Truscott  swung  his  wife  from  the  wagon,  and  almost 
lifted  her  to  the  piazza.  Miss  Sanford,  white  and  silent, 
sprang  out  unaided  and  ran  to  her  side.  Mrs.  Stan- 
nard,  with  an  awful  dread  in  her  kind  blue  eyes,  took 
Truscott's  hand  as  he  returned  and  assisted  her  to  alight. 

""Will  you  stay  with  Grace?"  he  whispered.  "I 
will  go  at  once  to  the  office.  Come,  Mrs.  Turner." 

But  Mrs.  Turner  hung  back  irresolute.  "  Perhaps 
it  isn't  true  at  all,  captain,  and  this  may  be  the  only 
time  we  can  have  the  ambulance  for  a  week." 

For  answer  he  silently  took  her  at  the  waist  in  his 
powerful  hands,  set  her  speechless  with  astonishment 
on  the  sidewalk,  sprang  in,  and  spoke  sharply  to  the 
driver, — 


A   SERENADE. 

"  Whirl  round.  Get  there  to  the  office  quick  as  you 
can/1 

And  the  lashed  mules  went  at  a  gallop. 

Entering  the  office  with  the  customary  knock  at  the 
open  door,  Truscott  stood  first  in  the  presence  of  the 
post  commander  and  his  adjutant. 

"  For  God's  sake  read  that !"  said  the  colonel,  hold 
ing  up  to  him  some  three  or  four  sheets  of  telegraphic 
despatch  paper.  The  other  officers  came  hurrying  in. 

"  Read  it  aloud,  Truscott." 

And  so  to  the  group  of  speechless  officers  and  to  the 
knot  of  soldiers  who  had  gathered  in  the  hall  the  dread 
news  of  the  battle  of  the  Little  Horn  was  told  at  Rus 
sell.  Custer  and  his  five  pet  companies  completely 
"  wiped  out/7  said  the  staff-officer,  who  sent  the  news 
flashing  around  to  the  military  posts  in  the  department. 
Three  hundred  and  twenty-five  soldiers  swept  out  of 
existence  only  an  easy  day's  gallop  in  front  of  the 
Gray  Fox's  pickets,  and  it  had  taken  all  this  time — ten 
days — to  get  the  news  into  civilization.  There  was  no 
sign  of  a  smile  the  rest  of  that  long  day  at  Russell. 
The  gloom  of  death  had  settled  down  on  the  post. 
The  ladies  were  seen  no  more.  The  doctor  was  sent 
for  in  more  than  one  instance.  Mrs.  Truscott  was 
reported  very  ill. 

But  if  garrison  after  garrison  was  thrown  into  dismay 
all  over  the  frontier  by  the  sudden  news,  who  can  pic 
ture  the  scene  at  Lincoln,  when  at  dawn  of  that  dreadful 
day  a  sergeant  came  over  from  the  boat  at  Bismarck  to 
arouse  the  people  at  the  hospital  and  to  break  the  blow 
to  the  widows  and  orphans  ?  Reveille  had  not  sounded 
when  the  commanding  officer,  the  adjutant,  and  a 

16 


MARION'S  FAITH. 

surgeon  started  on  the  gloomy  round  of  the  cavalry 
garrison.  Yesterday  we  saw  those  fair,  smiling  women 
bravely  striving  to  hide  their  anxieties  and  loneliness, 
and  to  lend  enthusiasm  to  the  celebration  of  the  nation's 
anniversary.  One  after  another  they  were  startled  from 
the  deep  slumber  of  early  morning  by  the  knocking  at 
the  door, — "  the  first  knell  of  disaster," — and  who  that 
saw  the  old  Missouri  post  when  the  fearful  news  was 
finally  made  known  to  all  will  ever  forget  the  scene 
that  ensued  ?  May  God  avert  the  possibility  of  such 
another ! 

The  day  wore  gloomily  away  at  Russell.  Twice  Mr. 
Gleason  called  at  Captain  Truscott's  quarters.  The 
second  time  Mrs.  Stannard  appeared  at  the  door,  and 
briefly  told  him  that  Mrs.  Truscott  was  not  well  enough 
to  see  anybody,  and  that  Miss  Sanford  begged  to  be  ex 
cused.  Mrs.  Whaling  permeated  the  post  in  an  ecstasy 
of  soulful  comfort,  shedding  prayers  and  prophecies  of 
similar  fortune  for  the  — th  with  the  impartiality  of 
a  saint.  She  even  succeeded  in  scaring  Mrs.  Turner 
half  to  death  and  exasperating  Mrs.  Wilkins  to  the 
verge  of  a  tirade,  but  the  latter  had  contented  herself 
with  the  spirited,  though  ungrateful  announcement  that 
when  it  came  to  having  hearses  and  mutes  it  wouldn't 
be  Mrs.  Whaling  they'd  inquire  for.  "  Matters  are 
bad  enough  without  your  making  'em  worse,  ma'am," 
she  said,  in  her  decided  way.  And  the  good  lady, 
longing  to  deluge  somebody  with  sympathetic  tears, 
was  compelled  to  confine  herself  to  the  round  of  the 
infantry  quarters,  where,  with  the  ladies  of  her  own 
regiment,  she  could  bemoan  the  unfathomable  ingrati 
tude  and  lack  of  appreciation  of  their  sisters  of  the  — th. 


A   SERENADE.  183 

Late  that  afternoon  there  came  more  orders  and 
despatches.  Truscott  and  the  other  cavalry  officers 
were  summoned  to  Colonel  Whaling's,  where  they 
found  most  of  the  infantrymen  already  assembled. 
Captain  Webb  had  been  called  back  to  Kansas  as  a 
witness  before  a  civil  court,  and  to  Truscott  the  order 
of  the  division  commander  was  conveyed  that  he  should 
march  with  the  two  troops  at  Russell  without  delay, 
and  join  the  — th  wherever  he  could  find  them  north 
of  the  Platte.  Three  of  the  four  infantry  companies 
would  also  march  for  Laramie  at  dawn.  Colonel 
Whaling,  with  one  small  company,  the  recruits,  the 
band,  and  the  noncombatants,  wqjild  remain  to  take 
charge  of  the  post. 

Sending  for  his  first  sergeant,  Truscott  ordered  him  to 
have  everything  put  in  readiness  at  once.  A  man  was 
sent  to  town  to  recall  all  soldiers  on  pass.  There  had 
been  no  drills  during  the  day.  Officers  and  men  alike 
seemed  stunned  by  the  tidings  that  had  come  at  guard- 
mounting.  He  then  went  to  his  quarters,  and  to  his 
young  wife's  bedside.  She  was  prepared  for  the  news ; 
he  had  told  her  during  the  day  that  now  every  avail 
able  officer  and  man  would  be  hurried  to  the  front. 
She  was  in  no  danger  whatever ;  it  was  the  shock,  the 
abruptness  of  the  announcement  of  the  orderly,  that 
had  so  prostrated  her.  She  lay  there  very  pale  and  still 
— never  taking  her  soft  eyes  from  his  face  and  holding 
tightly  his  hand — as  he  gently  told  her  all  he  had  to  say. 

"  I  cannot  be  too  thankful,"  lie  said  at  last,  "  that  1 
have  Miss  Sanford  and  Mrs.  Stannard  here  to  be  your 
companions  during  the  campaign.  It  will  be  late  in 
autumn  before  we  can  hope  to  return,  my  darling." 


184  MARION'S   FAITH. 

Later  that  evening  the  young  subalterns  of  his  own 
and  Webb's  troop  came  to  him  for  certain  instructions 
as  to  the  mess  and  baggage  arrangements.  Mr.  Gleason 
had  not  appeared  since  the  issuance  of  the  orders  to 
march.  Tattoo  was  just  sounding  out  on  the  parade, 
and  the  men  could  be  seen  flitting  to  and  fro  against 
the  lights  of  the  company  barracks.  They  were  stand 
ing  at  the  little  gate  in  front  of  his  quarters,  and  two 
or  three  officers  passed  them. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Gleason,  one  moment,"  called  Truscott. 

Gleason  turned  and  approached  them. 

"  I  presume  you  will  mess  with  the  rest  of  us, — at 
least  until  we  reach  J:he  regiment.  Mr.  Wells  has  been 
arranging  for  mess-furniture  and  supplies." 

"  Well — er — no,  captain,"  said  Gleason,  in  evident 
embarrassment.  "  The  fact  is  the  colonel  directs  that 
I  remain  here.  Somebody  has  to  stay  to  instruct  re 
cruits,  and  the  colonel  has  settled  upon  me.  It  is 
merely  temporary,  of  course." 

Truscott  stood  looking  at  him  in  silence  a  moment  ; 
a  dark  line  was  growing  between  his  brows. 

"The  colonel — er — sent  for  me  just  at  retreat," 
Gleason  stumbled  on ;  "I  assure  you  I  had  nothing  to 
say  to  him  to  bring  about  such  a  thing.  It  was  en 
tirely  against  my  wishes,  but  orders  are  orders." 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  you  say  the  order  was  unso 
licited,"  said  the  captain  shortly.  "  The  colonel  will, 
doubtless,  notify  me.  That  is  all,  Mr.  Gleason  ;  I  will 
not  detain  you." 

And  Gleason  went  on  his  way  to  the  store,  which  he 
had  lately  avoided ;  he  felt  that  he  stood  in  need  of 
bracing.  Still,  so  far  as  saying  that  he  had "  made  no 


A   SERENADE.  185 

request  of  Colonel  Whaling,  he  had  told  the  truth. 
He  had  simply  represented  the  detachment  of  recruits 
as  being  utterly  demoralized  by  the  news  of  the  mas 
sacre,  and  that  he  had  reason  to  believe  many  of  them 
would  desert,  and  as  that  would  reflect  on  the  vigilance 
of  the  post  commander,  the  latter  jumped  at  what  was 
suggested  to  him  by  his  far-sighted  wife, — the  tempo 
rary  detention  of  Mr.  Gleason  to  take  charge  of  them. 
At  daybreak  on  the  sixth,  Truscott's  squadron,  of  over 
a  hundred  horse  finely  mounted,  equipped,  and  disci 
plined,  was  marching  rapidly  over  the  ridge  to  Lodge 
Pole,  leaving  Russell — wives  and  children — behind  ; 
leaving  to  care  for  them,  among  others,  Gleason  and 
Sergeant  Wolf. 

Wearily  the  day  of  their  departure  rolled  away. 
Mrs.  Truscott  never  left  her  room.  Mrs.  Stannard  and 
Miss  Sanford  rarely  left  her.  Once  or  twice  had  Mr. 
Gleason  called,  being  met  again  by  Mrs.  Stannard,  whom 
he  was  beginning  to  hate.  "  The  ladies  were  resting," 
he  was  informed ;  so,  too,  was  Mrs.  Whaling  told  when 
she  came,  and  seemed  discomfited  at  not  being  invited 
up-stairs.  It  was  difficult,  indeed,  to  persuade  her  that 
she  had  not  better  remain  in  the  parlor  in  case  Mrs. 
Truscott  should  ask  for  her. 

"  You  see,  Mrs.  Stannard,"  explained  Gleason,  "  the 
last  thing  I  promised  Truscott  as  he  rode  away  was 
that  I  would  not  lose  sight  of  the  ladies,  would  watch 
over  them  incessantly,  and  I  want  to  keep  faith  with 
him." 

Mrs.  Stannard  had  her  doubts  as  to  how  much  of 
this  statement  was  true,  though  she  had  no  doubts  as  to 
how  much  was  uncalled  for.     Mr.  Gleason  went  awny 
1/i* 


186  MARION'S  FAITH. 

feeling  injured  and  rebuffed.  It  was  Miss  Sanford's 
business,  he  held,  to  come  down  and  see  him  if  only  for 
a  moment.  He  had  gained  his  object  in  being  kept 
back  at  the  post,  that  he  might  pursue  his  wooing. 
Satisfied  of  the  wealth  ahd  social  standing  of  the  lady, 
he  felt  no  doubt  whatever  that  if  given  a  fair  field  he 
could  win  her,  and  win  her  he  would.  If  unlimited 
conceit  has  not  yet  been  mentioned  or  indicated  as  one 
of  Mr.  Gleason's  prominent  traits,  the  omission  is  indeed 
important.  He  felt  that  up  to  the  time  of  Truscott's 
coming  his  progress  had  been  satisfactory.  Officers 
and  ladies  were  already  making  sly  allusions  in  his 
presence  as  to  his  prospects  for  a  second  entanglement, 
and  were  heard  with  complacent  undenial.  Ever  since 
the  day  of  his  aspersion  of  Ray  he  had  been  losing 
ground,  however,  and  now,  confound  it !  here  was  Ray 
looming  up  as  a  hero  again,  making  a  wild  night-ride 
with  despatches.  He  felt  that  things  must  be  brought 
to  a  crisis  speedily.  He  knew  that,  properly  handled, 
he  had  the  means  of  clouding  Ray's  name  with  some 
thing  worse  than  suspicion.  He  had  already  sneeringly 
replied  to  the  officers  who  had  spoken  admiringly  of 
Ray's  daring,  by  saying  that  Ray  was,  doubtless,  trying 
to  make  a  record  to  block  matters  that  were  working 
against  him  here.  Some  of  his  auditors  had  gone  off 
disgusted.  One  had  plainly  said  he  was  sick  of  insin 
uations.  Now,  however,  they  were  all  gone,  and  he 
had  the  field  practically  to  himself.  The  half-dozen 
officers  left  at  the  post  would  be  little  apt  to  interfere 
with  him.  Only,  he  must  manage  Mrs.  Stannard. 
Gleason  took  a  fortifying  glass  or  two,  ordered  up  his 
horse,  and,  late  as  it  was,  rode  in  to  Cheyenne.  There 


A   SERENADE.  ]  87 

he  dropped  in  at  the  telegraph-office, — he  could  have 
dent  it  from  the  adjutant's  office  just  as  well, — and,  after 
some  deliberation,  wrote  this  despatch  : 

"WILLARD  KALLSTON,  ESQ.,  Omaha. 

"  Why  no  letter  ?     "When  you  coming  ?     Act  now.     Ferguson 

gone. 

"G." 

Being  in  town  he  dropped  in  at  one  or  two  places  of 
popular  resort,  and  had  more  or  less  conversation  with 
the  hangers-on  at  the  open  bars.  He  drank  more  freely 
than  usual,  too,  and  while  by  no  means  off  his  balance, 
mentally  or  physically,  when  at  midnight  he  turned  his 
horse's  head  homewards,  he  was  rather  more  capable 
of  any  deed  of  meanness  than  would  ordinarily  have 
been  deemed  expedient.  His  quarters  reached,  he  stood 
for  a  moment  gazing  along  the  dark  and  silent  row. 
Suddenly,  soft  and  sweet  on  the  clear  night  air  he  heard 
the  notes  of  a  guitar,  then  a  tenor  voice,  well  trained, 
rich  and  melodious.  He  well  knew  there  was  no  officer 
in  the  garrison  who  could  sing  like  that.  Who  was  it? 
Where  was  it  ? 

Slipping  through  the  back-yard  and  keeping  close 
under  the  high  board  fence,  Mr.  Gleason  tiptoed  up  the 
row  until  behind  Truscott's.  A  convenient  knot-hole 
enabled  him  to  peer  through,  and  his  eye  lit  on  the 
dim  figure  of  a  man  enveloped  in  cavalry  overcoat 
standing  beneath  the  rear  window.  This,  then,  was  the 
troubadour. 

A  moment  or  two  previous,  Miss  Sanford,  wearied 
after  a  long  day  of  anxiety  and  care,  was  roused  from 
a  broken  sleep  by  a  soft,  sweet  tenor  voice  beneath  her 


133  MARION'S  FAITH. 

window,  and  the  tinkling  accompaniment  of  a  guitar. 
Each  word  came  floating  through  the  silent  night, — 

"  Rings  Stille  horscht — es  schweigt  der  Wald, 
Vollendet  1st  des  Tages  Lauf ; 
Der  Vogleins  Lied  ist  langst  verhallt, 
Am  Himmel  ziehn  die  Sterne  auf. 

Schlaf  wohl,  schlaf  wohl, 
Und  schliess  die  schonen  Augen  zu ; 

Schlaf  wohl,  schlaf  wohl, 
Du  siisser,  lieber  Engel  Du." 

She  knew  instantly  who  it  must  be.  She  noiselessly- 
slipped  to  the  door  leading  into  Grace's  chamber,  and 
the  dim  night-light  showed  her  sweet  friend  sound 
asleep.  Keturning,  she  crept  to  the  window,  shrouded 
as  it  was  by  the  inner  curtain.  No  sign  would  she  give 
that  the  song  was  heard,  but  what  woman  would  not 
have  risked  one  peep  ?  Finishing  his  song,  the  serenader 
turned  on  his  heel,  gave  one  long,  lingering  look  at  the 
darkened  window,  then  strode  out  of  the  rear  gate 
and  away  towards  the  band  quarters.  Drawing  the 
curtain  farther  aside,  Miss  Sanford  plainly  recognized 
the  walk  and  bearing.  She  followed  him  with  her  eyes 
until  he  had  gone  full  a  hundred  yards,  was  about  to 
let  fall  the  curtain,  when,  crouching  like  panther,  sneak 
ing  from  shadow  to  shadow,  there  slipped  past  the  gate 
the  dim  figure  of  a  second  man  in  stealthy  pursuit. 
Who  could  this  be?  The  first,  of  course,  was  Sergeant 
Wolf. 


SURROUNDED.  189 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

SUBEOUNDED. 

"  ONE  thing  is  certain  :  we  ought  to  get  word  over 
to  Wayne  or  he'll  be  cut  off."  The  speaker  was  old 
Stannard,  and  his  auditors  were  a  knot  of  half  a  dozen 
officers  of  the  — th.  It  was  just  daybreak,  cold,  crisp, 
and  clear.  It  was  about  a  week  after  the  news  of  the 
battle  of  the  Little  Horn  had  reached  the  regiment. 
Already  its  two  strongest  battalions  were  marching  to 
join  Crook  at  the  Big  Horn,  but  a  little  squadron — two 
troops  under  command  of  Captain  Wayne — lay  nearly 
two  days'  march  away,  lower  down  the  broad  valley  to 
wards  the  southeast.  The  tidings  that  had  come  by 
special  couriers  were  exciting,  even  alarming.  A  great 
outbreak  had  occurred  among  the  Indians  still  at  the 
agencies  on  White  River.  Nearly  a  thousand  of  the 
Southern  Cheyennes,  who  had  nothing  whatever  to  do 
with  the  quarrel  of  Sitting  Bull  and  his  people,  who 
had  no  grievance  whatever  against  the  government,  but 
had  been  fed,  clothed,  petted,  and  pampered  for  six  or 
eight  years,  and  who  up  to  this  time  remained  at  the 
reservations,  had  become  so  emboldened  at  the  success 
of  the  renegades  and  warriors  in  the  Big  Horn  country, 
so  envious  of  their  great  massacre  of  Custer  and  his 
men,  that  they  had  suddenly  thrown  off  all  disguise, 
loaded  up  with  all  the  provisions,  arms,  and  ammuni 
tion  they  could  buy  or  steal,  and  had  jumped  for  the 


190  MARION'S  FAITH. 

Northwest,  murdering  and  pillaging  as  they  went. 
Waiting  no  orders,  dropping,  indeed,  the  retrograde 
movement  he  was  ordered  to  make  before  this  outbreak 
was  known,  the  regimental  commander  had  turned  his 
columns  and  shot  "  cross  country'7  on  a  night  march  to 
head  them  off.  A  soldier  who  doubted  the  "  grit"  of 
his  officers  and  men,  who  was  himself  indisposed  to 
dare  so  strong  and  savage  a  foe,  could  easily  have  taken 
refuge  in  these  orders  and,  marching  as  directed,  avoid 
the  Cheyennes  entirely.  They  were  known  to  be  the 
fiercest,  sharpest,  trickiest  fighters  of  the  plains,  full  of 
pluck  and  science,  superb  horsemen,  fine  shots,  splen 
didly  mounted  and  equipped.  A  foe,  indeed,  the  aver 
age  man  would  think  twice  before  "  tackling,"  especially 
iii  the  light  of  the  fearful  exhibition  of  Indian  prowess 
of  the  25th  of  June.  But  the  leader  of  the  — th  never 
thought  twice.  No  sooner  did  the  breathless  couriers 
reach  him  with  the  news  than  he  formed  his  plans  in- 
stanter.  Within  an  hour  every  horse  and  man  in  the 
— th  seemed  to  know  they  had  a  race  and  a  fight  ahead. 
Eighty  miles  of  rough  country  to  ride  over  before  they 
could  strike  the  line  on  which  the  Cheyennes  were 
moving,  and  then  the  — th  could  speak  for  themselves. 
The  news  of  the  tragedy  of  the  Little  Horn  came  like 
a  stunning  blow  to  many  a  fellow  who  had  lost  old  and 
tried  comrades  in  the  fray ;  but  while  laugh  and  jest 
seemed  banished  for  the  time,  there  was  no  doubting 
the  spirit  of  the  regiment  for  the  coming  business. 
They  had  turned  sharply  from  their  course  late  in  the 
afternoon  of  the  previous  day,  had  marched  nearly  all 
night,  had  halted  to  make  coffee  and  give  the  horses 
water  and  a  good  feed  as  they  reached  the  sheltering 


SURROUNDED.  191 

eottonwoods  by  the  stream ;  and  now,  while  some  of  the 
officers  with  their  field-glasses  were  lying  prone  upon 
the  commanding  ridges  studying  the  distant  valley  for 
signs,  another  party  was  gathered  here  around  the 
colonel,  who  had  been  having  a  brief  chat  with  "  old 
Stannard." 

"  Wayne  has  been  warned  by  this  time.  I  sent  two 
of  the  scouts  across  from  the  Kawhide  last  evening," 
was  the  colonel's  quiet  reply  to  the  impulsive  outburst 
of  his  junior. 

"He  is  off  their  line  of  march  entirely,  I  know," 
admitted  Stannard,  "but  those  fellows  have  had  eyes 
out  in  every  direction.  They  know  just  where  he  is. 
They  know  just  where  that  wagon-train  is,  and  up  to 
last  evening  they  knew  just  where  we  were,  though 
they  are  puzzled  now,  I  reckon.  All  I'm  afraid  of  is 
that  the  moment  they  find  we're  not  in  supporting  dis 
tance,  they'll  drop  what  they're  after  and  turn  on 
Wayne.  He  ought  to  be  only  forty  odd  miles  down 
this  valley, — considerably  off  their  line, — and  if  he 
has  kept  close  and  not  fooled  away  his  time  he  is  safe 
enough;  but  Wayne  is  Wayne,  colonel,  and  I've 
known  him  to  go  poking  off  on  side  scouts  and  losing 
time  '  topogging'  over  pretty  country  when  he  ought  to 
have  been  making  tracks  for  home."  (Stannard  would 
use  the  vernacular  of  the  frontier  when  at  all  excited.) 
"  Now  it  would  be  just  like  Wayne  to  have  lost  a  day 
in  just  such  a  manner.  I  hope  not, — but  I  fear  it." 

"  He  has  Ray  with  him,"  suggested  Captain  Turner. 

"  I  know  that ;  but  Wayne  is  butt-headed  as  a  billy- 
goat  on  some  points,  and  one  is  that  he  can't  be  taught 
anything  about  Indians.  He's  as  innocent  and  uiisus- 


192  MARION'S  FAITH. 

picious  and  incapable  of  appreciating  their  wiles  as  the 
average  Secretary  of  the  Interior ;  and  Wayne  isn't  the 
kind  of  man  to  be  influenced  by  Ray's  opinions.  He'd 
be  more  apt  to  tell  Ray  to  keep  them  to  himself.  It 
couldn't  be  helped,  of  course,  but  it's  a  pity  two  com 
panies  had  to  be  sent  on  that  scout.  I'd  feel  safer 
under  Ray  with  one  troop  than  under  Wayne  with  two." 

"  I  confess  I  wish  we  could  see  just  where  they  were 
and  what  they  were  doing,"  said  the  colonel,  with  an 
anxious  look  on  his  sun-blistered  face ;  "  but  we  have 
our  hands  full  as  it  is.  Come,  Mr.  Adjutant,  it's  time 
we  were  off !  Get  the  men  in  saddle  and  have  the  arms 
and  ammunition  inspected, — fifty  rounds  to  the  man, 
at  least.  Major  Stannard,  where  would  you  locate 
Truscott's  command  this  morning  ?  I  shall  send  cou 
riers  back  from  here  to  find  him  and  tell  him  to  join 
Wayne." 

To  join  Wayne !  Well,  just  at  that  particular  mo 
ment  Wayne  was  wishing  that  he  might, — or  somebody 
equally  strong.  And  if  the  colonel  could  but  have 
seen  the  fix  that  doughty  dragoon  was  in — fifty  miles 
away — the  concern  on  his  ruddy  face  would  have  been 
intensified.  Wayne  had  succeeded  in  justifying  every 
thing  Stannard  had  said  of  him.  He  had,  indeed, 
been  "  fooling  away  his  time"  on  side  scouts,  and  now, 
before  he  had  fairly  dreamed  of  the  possibility  of  such 
a  thing,  the  hills  around  him  were  alive  with  Indians. 

Ray,  with  his  troop,  had  been  assigned  to  the  cap 
tain's  command  for  a  scout  of  some  importance  over 
towards  the  reservations  three  days  before  this  unlucky 
morning.  Rumors  of  the  disaffection  of  the  Chey- 
ennes  had  come  to  the  colonel.  Everybody  knew  that 


S  URR  0  UNDED.  193 

the  Indians  would  be  wild  with  delight  over  the  news 
from  Sitting  Bull.  Indeed,  there  was  reason  to  believe 
that  it  was  being  whispered  at  the  reservations  before 
the  telegraph  flashed  the  tidings  broadcast  on  the  5th 
of  July.  Were  there  not  two  days  there  on  the  Mini 
Pusa — the  2d  and  3d  of  July — when  little  parties  of 
Indians  were  chased  towards  as  well  as  from  the  White 
River?  Wayne's  orders  were  to  scout  the  valley  and 
report  whether  Indians  were  venturing  out  that  way. 
Before  he  had  been  two  days  away  from  the  regiment 
he  found  trail  after  trail  of  war-parties  crossing  the 
valley  northward.  Signal-smokes  and  night-fires  were 
in  the  hills  beyond.  The  evidence  was  conclusive  to 
expert  eyes,  but  Wayne  said  that,  all  told,  no  more 
than  one  hundred  warriors  could  have  gone  out.  He 
was  bent  on  going  farther  and  seeing  how  many  more 
there  were.  Ray,  as  second  in  rank  among  the  five 
officers  present,  ventured  to  suggest  that  they  had  seen 
quite  enough,  and  that  without  delay  they  should 
either  return  directly  to  the  regiment  or  send  word. 
Wayne  would  not  send  because  only  a  hundred  tracks 
had  been  seen,  and  by  the  time  he  had  run  over  double 
that  number  the  two  scouts  with  them  refused  to  go 
back.  "  We  would  be  cut  off  and  killed,  sure  as  fate," 
was  their  comprehensive  reason.  They  bivouacked 
that  night  in  the  timber,  keeping  out  strong  guards 
and  pickets,  but  with  early  dawn  were  astir,  moving 
back  up  the  valley.  Once  again  had  Ray  offered  a 
suggestion, — that  they  should  put  back  during  the 
night,  but  Wayne  was  nettled  at  the  fact  that  Ray's 
prophecy  had  come  true.  They  had  stayed  too  long 
and  gone  too  far.  He  was  a  John  Bull  sort  of  fellow, 

in  17 


194  MARION'S  FAITH. 

full  of  the  ponderous,  bumptious  courage  which  prompts 
the  men  of  that  illustrious  island  empire  to  be  shot  down 
like  cattle  by  Boers  and  Zulus  and  Arabs  and  Afghans, 
adhering  rigidly  to  the  tactics  of  Waterloo  to  fight  the 
scientific  light  troops  of  the  savages  sooner  than  depart 
from  that  which  was  the  conventional  British  method  of 
making  war.  Wayne  was  lacking  only  in  moral  cour 
age.  He  was  afraid  to  say  he  was  wrong  and  Ray  was 
right.  Before  they  had  gone  two  miles  he  was  forced 
to  admit  it.  He  was  hemmed  in  on  every  side. 

The  valley  had  narrowed  considerably  just  here,  and 
the  bare,  rounded  bluffs  came  down  to  within  two  hun 
dred  and  fifty  yards  of  the  timber  along  the  stream. 
Willows  in  sparse  groups  and  cottonwoods  in  sun- 
bleached'  foliage  were  scattered  along  the  level  bench 
on  both  sides  of  the  river-bed.  Broad  wastes  of  sand 
extended  in  places  from  bank  to  bank,  and  what  water 
there  was  lay  in  heated  pools.  Here  and  there  the 
white  incrustation  on  the  sand  told  of  the  strongly 
alkaline  nature  of  the  soil  and  the  consequent  impurity 
of  the  fluid.  The  little  column,  with  scouts  well  out 
on  front  and  flanks,  was  moving  four  abreast  up  the 
south  bank  along  their  trail  of  the  previous  day. 
Every  now  and  then  some  officer  or  man  would  note  a 
new  signal-smoke  puffing  up  to  the  sky  among  the 
hills  some  distance  off  the  valley,  and  Wayne  was  rid 
ing  in  rather  sulky  dignity  at  the  head  of  the  command. 
He  had  come  to  the  conclusion  that  he  had  done  an 
idiotic  thing  the  morning  previous,  in  pushing  on  down 
the  valley  after  discovering  beyond  question  that  so 
many  Indians  were  already  on  the  move.  He  well 
knew  that  Ray  was  the  last  man  in  the  regiment  to 


SURROUNDED.  195 

Counsel  avoiding  danger,  unless  it  were  danger  which 
would  prove  overwhelming  and  for  encountering  which 
there  could  be  no  excuse.  He  knew  he  had  been 
idiotic  now,  for  he  could  see  indications  that  Indians 
were  closing  in  on  him  from  every  side ;  but,  worse 
than  that,  he  knew  that  he  had  added  to  his  idiocy  a 
performance  that  was  simply  asinine  :  he  had  lost  his 
temper  and  said  an  outrageous  thing  to  Ray,  and  some 
of  the  men  had  heard  it.  From  earliest  dawn  the  lieu 
tenant  had  been  out  with  the  pickets  eagerly  scanning 
the  surrounding  country.  Indians,  of  course,  were  not 
to  be  seen.  They  kept  out  of  sight  behind  the  bluffs 
and  ridges,  but  their  signals  were  floating  skyward  from 
half  a  dozen  different  points,  and  Ray  knew  it  meant 
that  they  were  calling  in  their  forces  to  concentrate  on 
this  lone  command.  At  last  he  had  gone  to  Wayne, 
who  was  sipping  his  coffee  with  as  much  deliberation 
as  though  the  troops  had  nothing  on  earth  to  do  all 
day. 

"  Captain  Wayne.  May  I  ask  if  anything  further 
has  been  done  towards  getting  word  back  to  the  regi 
ment?" 

Wayne  looked  curiously  at  his  junior  a  moment. 
He  had  the  unpleasant  conviction  that  whatever  his 
own  views  might  be,  the  regiment  generally  would  be 
more  apt  to  back  Ray's  opinions  as  to  the  chances  in 
Indian  fighting  than  they  would  his.  He  could  not 
complain  of  the  lieutenant's  manner  in  the  least,  but  all 
the  same  he  felt  certain  that  Ray  had  a  higher  opinion 
of  his  own  judgment  than  he  had  of  his,  the  squadron 
commander's.  It  was  time  to  take  him  down. 

"  Why  do  you  ask,  Ray  ?"  he  said,  with  assumed 


MARION'S  FAITH. 


composure,  setting  down  his  tin  cup  and  motioning  tc 
the  attendant  that  he  desired  to  have  it  refilled. 

"  Because  —  we  are  now  pretty  well  hemmed  in,  and 
unless  word  has  gone,  there  will  be  little  chance  of 
sending  any." 

"  Well,  Mr.  Eay,  why  should  we  send  any?" 

"  Because,  Captain  Wayne,  we  have  neither  ammu 
nition  nor  provisions  for  a  siege,  and  the  chances  are  in 
favor  of  our  having  to  stand  one." 

"  Oh,  trash  !  Ray.  I  expected  more  nerve  of  you, 
and  you  are  the  first  man  in  the  crowd  to  get  stam 
peded." 

For  an  instant  there  was  danger  of  an  explosion. 
Ray's  eyes  blazed  with  wrath.  He  would  have  burst 
into  a  fury  of  denunciation,  captain  or  no  captain,  but 
there  —  close  at  hand  —  stood  many  silent  groups  of  the 
men.  For  once  in  his  life  Ray  said  not  a  word.  For 
one  long  ten  seconds  he  stood  there,  looking  Wayne 
straight  in  the  eye,  then  turned  on  his  heel  and  left 
him. 

The  captain  would  have  given  much  to  recall  the 
words.  He  knew  their  utter  injustice.  He  knew, 
worse  luck  !  that  if  they  succeeded  in  getting  back  to 
the  —  th  in  safety,  about  the  very  first  thing  he  would 
be  called  upon  to  do  would  be  to  eat  them.  For  the 
moment  he  was  Ray's  commanding  officer  and  there 
was  no  resenting  them  ;  but  once  back  with  the  —  th, 
then  there  would  be  fun  ! 

Wayne  rode  for  the  first  mile  or  so  in  sulky  dignity, 
as  has  been  said.  Ray  was  out  in  front  with  the  scouts. 
He  had  gone  without  saying  a  word  to  the  commander, 
and  though  that  was  a  breach  of  etiquette,  the  captain 


SURROUNDED.  197 

well  knew  that  there  of  all  others  was  the  place  for 
Ray  to  be.  None  of  his  other  subalterns  came  neai 
him.  There  were  only  two, — Dana  and  Hunter, — and 
they  were  riding  each  at  the  head  of  the  troop  to  which 
he  was  attached.  A  young  assistant  surgeon  was  with 
the  party,  and  a  civilian  who  had  charge  of  the  half- 
dozen  pack-mules  ambling  alongside,  but  even  these 
men  seemed  indisposed  to  chat  with  the  commanding 
officer.  The  column  was  riding  "  at  ease/'  but  in  silence. 
No  whistling,  joking,  or  singing  was  going  on.  To 
the  right  was  the  timber  through  which,  well  to  the 
front,  half  a  dozen  skirmishers  were  pushing  so  as  to 
secure  the  main  body  against  surprise.  To  the  left, 
full  eight  hundred  yards  away,  rose  the  low  line  of 
bluffs,  sweeping  around  the  left  front  so  as  to  approach 
the  stream.  Two  or  three  men  rode  warily  along  their 
crest,  keeping  sharp  lookout  to  the  south,  while  scattered 
across  the  valley  a  like  distance  ahead  were  half  a  dozen 
active  troopers,  the  two  guides,  and  Ray.  The  latter, 
easily  recognized  at  that  distance  by  his  riding  and  by 
"  Dandy's"  elastic  stride,  had  discarded  his  coat,  and 
was  moving  rapidly  from  point  to  point  in  his  dark- 
blue  scouting-shirt. 

Nearing  the  bluffs  that  bent  around  their  front,  it 
could  be  seen  that  the  guides  were  hanging  back  a  little, 
so  were  the  skirmishers  in  advance ;  but  the  men  on  the 
flanks  pushed  ahead.  No  Indians  could  be  seen  from 
their  more  elevated  position. 

"  They're  shy  of  that  bluff,"  said  Wayne  between 
his  teeth.  "  Here,  Mr.  Dana,  send  a  sergeant  and  two 
sets  of  fours  forward,  and  stir  them  up  a  little.  Wait 
a  moment !  There  goes  Ray." 

17* 


198  MARION'S  FAITH. 

Sure  enough,  Ray  and  a  couple  of  horsemen,  opening 
out  considerably,  could  be  seen  spurring  diagonally 
across  the  bottom  towards  a  point  of  bluffs  that  rose 
higher  than  the  general  line  off  to  the  left.  Before 
they  had  gone  two  hundred  yards,  out  from  the  very 
crest  of  the  bluff  there  leaped  half  a  dozen  quick  puffs 
of  smoke ;  half  a  dozen  little  spirts  of  dust  and  sand 
flew  up  from  the  prairie  near  the  three  horsemen  farthest 
to  the  front,  two  of  whose  steeds  were  seen  to  veer  and 
shy  violently,  and  then  six  sharp,  spiteful,  half-muffled 
reports  were  borne  on  the  still  air. 

Even  before  the  shots  were  heard  Wayne  was  turn 
ing  in  his  saddle. 

"  Deploy  to  the  front,  Dana ;  only  your  first  platoon," 
he  added,  as  the  young  officer  was  about  throwing  for 
ward  the  whole  troop.  "  Look  out  for  the  bluffs  on 
your  left.  I'll  have  Hunter  face  them.  Half  front 
your  line  that  way  so  as  not  to  let  them  enfilade  you. 
I'm  going  right  out  to  the  front,"  With  that  he  rode 
back,  said  a  few  words  to  Hunter,  and  then,  followed 
by  his  orderly  trumpeter,  went  thumping  off  at  pon 
derous  gallop  towards  his  distant  advance. 

Almost  at  the  same  instant  the  flankers  on  the  bluffs 
to  the  left  were  seen  waving  their  hats  and  spurring 
about  in  violent  excitement,  pointing  towards  the  south. 
Then  they  fired  two  or  three  wild  shots  in  that  direc 
tion,  and,  ducking  as  though  to  avoid  return  fire,  came 
sweeping  down  the  slopes  at  full  speed. 

It  was  stirring  to  mark  the  bearing  of  the  little  com 
mand  just  then.  Every  man  knew  that  the  unseen 
foe  was  present  in  front  and  flank  in  heavy  force. 
Every  hand  seemed  nerved  to  sudden  strength.  The 


SURROUNDED.  199 

horses  tossed  their  heads  and  pricked  up  their  ears, 
looking  eagerly  in  the  direction  of  the  firing.  In  obe 
dience  to  his  orders,  Dana  was  rapidly  deploying  his 
leading  platoon,  and  a  sheaf  of  skirmishers  went  scat 
tering  out  to  the  front  in  support  of  the  advance,  while 
Hunter,  left  for  the  moment  alone,  divined  in  an  instant 
that  the  Indians  were  coming  with  a  rush  upon  the 
southern  flank.  He  wheeled  his  fours  to  the  left,  and, 
dismounting  his  skirmishers,  sent  them  at  the  double- 
quick  out  across  the  prairie.  Not  an  instant  too  soon  ! 
Almost  simultaneously  the  ridge  to  the  south,  the  bluffs 
out  in  front,  and  even  the  narrow  level  between  them 
and  the  timber  fairly  bristled  with  daring,  dashing 
horsemen, — the  Cheyennes  in  all  their  glory. 

Oh,  what  a  brilliant  sight  they  made  with  plume  and 
pennon,  floating  war-bonnet,  lance  and  shield  ;  the  sun 
light  dancing  on  their  barbaric  ornaments  of  glistening 
brass  or  silver,  on  brightly-painted,  naked  forms,  on 
the  trappings  of  their  nimble  ponies,  on  rifle  and  spear  ! 
All  at  full  speed,  all  ay  ell,  brandishing  their  weapons, 
firing  wildly  into  the  valley,  leaping,  some  of  them,  for 
an  instant  to  the  ground  to  take  better  aim,  then,  like 
a  flash,  to  saddle  and  top  speed  again  ;  through  every 
little  swale,  over  every  ridge  they  popped  like  so  many 
savage  Jacks-in-the-box,  and  came  swooping,  circling 
down  on  the  little  column  at  the  old-time  tactics  of  the 
stampede.  Warily  though,  with  all  their  clamor,  for 
though  they  whoop  and  yell  and  shoot  and  challenge, 
they  veer  off  to  right  or  left  long  before  they  get  within 
dangerous  range  of  those  silent  skirmishers  of  Hun 
ter's,  now  sprawling  in  long  blue  line  out  on  the  dusty 
prairie,  venire  &  terre,  and  evejy  fellow  with  his  car- 


200  MARION'S  FAITH. 

bine  at  the  front  just  praying  the  painted  scamps  will 
come  a  little  closer.  Warily  in  front,  too,  where  Ray 
is  skilfully  retiring>  face  to  the  foe,  but  keeping  them 
back  while  Wayne  has  time  to  return  to  the  column 
and  move  his  horses  into  the  sheltering  timber  and  pre 
pare  for  vigorous  defence. 

It  is  the  only  course  now  open  to  him.  This  is  not 
civilized  warfare,  remember,  and  far  different  rules  must 
govern.  It  would  be  no  difficult  matter  against  ordi 
nary  troops  to  lead  a  dashing  charge,  cut  through  the 
opposing  line,  and  so  make  his  way  back  to  the  regi 
ment.  Of  course  many  men  might  be  unhorsed  and 
wounded,  and  so  left  behind,  but  they  would  be  cared 
for  as  prisoners  until  exchanged  or  the  war  was  at  an 
end.  But  war  with  the  Indian  means,  on  his  side, 
war  d  ow^rance, — war  to  the  cruellest  death  he  can  de 
vise.  When  he  is  cornered,  all  he  has  to  do  is  sur 
render  and  become  the  recipient  of  more  attention  and 
the  victim  of  higher  living  than  he  ever  dreamed  of 
until  he  tried  it,  and  found  it  so  pleasant  that  it  paid 
him  to  go  on  the  war-path  every  spring,  to  have  a  royal 
old  revel  in  blood  and  bestiality  until  fall,  and  then 
yield  to  the  blandishments  of  civilization  for  the 
winter.  But  to  officer  or  soldier  capture  means  death, 
and  death  by  fiendish  torture  as  a  rule.  The  Indian 
fights  for  the  glory  and  distinction  it  gives  him.  He 
has  everything  to  gain  and  nothing  to  lose.  The  sol 
dier  of  the  United  States  fights  the  red  man  only  because 
"he  is  ordered  to.  He  has  nothing  to  gain — even  glory, 
for  the  Senate  has  fixed  a  bar  sinister  on  gallantry  in 
Indian  warfare.  He  has  everything  to  lose.  However, 
no  words  of  mine  will  ever  effect  a  change  of  political 


S  URRO  UNDED.  201 

heart  in  such  matters.  The  fact  remains  that  the  one 
thing  left  for  Wayne  to  do — finding  himself  cut  off  by 
some  two  hundred  Cheyennes — was  to  take  to  the  tim 
ber  and  stand  them  off. 

By  this  time  the  fray  was  spirited  and  picturesque  in 
the  extreme.  The  whole  line  of  bluffs  was  alive  with 
Indians  dashing  to  and  fro,  occasionally  swooping  down 
as  though  to  burst  through  or  over  the  slender  skir 
mish  line.  Others  had  swung  clear  around  to  the  left, 
and  were  circling  about  in  the  valley  below  them. 
From  all  but  the  north  side,  therefore,  the  bullets  came 
whistling  in,  and  occasionally  some  stricken  horse  would 
plunge  and  snort  madly,  and  one  or  two  men  were  be 
ing  assisted  to  the  bank  of  the  stream,  where  the  young 
doctor  had  already  gone  to  work.  Hunter's  dismounted 
men,  sturdily  fronting  the  south  and  southeast,  were 
holding  five  times  their  force  in  check,  while  Ray's  and 
Dana's  mounted  skirmishers,  fronting  southwest  and 
west,  were  slowly  falling  back  fighting.  The  Chey 
ennes  encircled  them  on  every  side  but  the  north. 

Busy  in  getting  his  horses  into  shelter  under  the  bank, 
which  was  a  few  feet  high,  and  directing  where  the  pro 
visions  and  pack-mules  should  be  placed,  Wayne  was 
suddenly  accosted  by  Ray. 

"  If  twenty  men  can  be  spared,  sir,  I'll  put  them  on 
that  island,"  pointing  to  a  clump  of  willows  and  cot 
ton  woods  that  stood  along  the  opposite  shore.  "  The 
Indians  are  crossing  above  and  below,  and  we'll  soon 
have  their  fire  on  our  backs." 

Wayne  was  soldier  enough  to  see  the  force  of  the 
suggestion.  He  was  man  enough,  too,  to  want  to  ask 
Ray's  pardon  for  his  language  of  the  morning,  but  there 


202  MARION'S  FAITH. 

was  only  time  to  accede  to  the  request.  The  Kentuck- 
ian,  still  mounted  on  Dandy,  was  darting  across  the 
sandy  space  with  a  dozen  or  more  of  his  men  at  his 
heels.  The  island  was  a  Godsend.  In  less  than  five 
minutes  the  warriors  who  had  ventured  across,  and  were 
now  seeking  for  a  shot  at  the  safety-roost  along  under 
the  bank,  were  met  by  a  score  of  well-aimed  bullets  that 
drove  them  to  cover,  dragging  with  them  the  lifeless 
body  of  one  of  their  number. 

"  Spread  out  there,  men  !"  shouted  Wayne.  "  Seize 
every  point  you  can  get  on  t'other  shore.  Run  up- 
" stream  fifty  yards  or  so  and  scoop  holes  for  your 
selves  in  the  sand."  And  then  he  rode  out  to  the  front 
again  to  superintend  the  retirement  of  his  slender 
lines. 

But  all  this  time  the  firing  had  been  rapid  and  al 
most  incessant.  As  the  troopers  came  slowly  in  towards 
the  timber  and  the  Cheyennes  realized  that  it  was  im 
possible  to  drive  them  into  panic  or  stampede,  they 
seemed  to  give  far  more  attention  to  the  accuracy  of 
their  aim,  and  for  this  purpose  the  best  shots  had  thrown 
themselves  from  their  ponies  and  were  striving  to  pick 
off  the  officers  and  prominent  sergeants.  Still,  the 
greater  number  remained  in  saddle  whooping  and  yell 
ing  and  darting  to  and  fro  at  a  comparatively  safe  dis 
tance,  banging  away  at  anything  or  anybody  within  the 
soldier  lines,  and  offering  tempting  though  difficult 
marks  for  the  sorely-tried  skirmishers.  Until  he  noted 
the  distant  war-parties  crossing  to  the  north  side  of  the 
stream,  Ray  had  been  riding  up  and  down  the  lines 
checking  the  useless  waste  of  ammunition.  Every 
where  his  voice  could  be  heard,  placid,  almost  laughing 


S  URR  0  UNDED.  203 

at  times,  as  he  rebukejj  the  senseless  long-range  shooting 
of  the  men. 

"  Hold  your  fire,  men.  You  can't  hit  those  skipping 
jack-rabbits  half  a  mile  away.  What  on  earth  are 
you  shooting  at,  Mulligan  ?  You  couldn't  hit  a  whole 
barn  at  that  distance." 

But  all  the  same  he  was  seriously  worried.  He  knew 
well  that  at  the  utmost  there  were  no  more  than  fifty 
rounds  per  man  with  the  troopers,  and  that  rapid  firing 
would  soon  reduce  this  to  next  to  nothing.  The  indi 
cations  were  that  once  hemmed  in  to  the  timber  they 
would  need  every  shot  to  stand  off  the  Cheyennes  until 
relief  could  come,  and  before  galloping  off  to  secure 
the  timbered  island  in  rear  of  their  position  and  so 
form  a  partially  protected  "  corral"  for  the  horses,  he 
had  cautioned  Dana  and  Hunter  to  be  most  sparing  in 
their  fire, — to  allow  no  shot  unless  the  Indians  charged. 

The  foe,  on  the  contrary,  were  flush  with  ammuni 
tion.  Mr.  's  cartridges  were  abundant  among 

them,  and  from  east,  south,  and  west  the  bullets  were 
whizzing  overhead,  ripping  up  little  grass  tufts  from  the 
prairie  and  raising  a  dust  wherever  they  struck.  The 
mounted  skirmishers  sheered  off  into  the  timber  quite 
early,  as  they  were  being  shot  at  from  three  sides,  sprang 
from  their  horses  and  took  to  the  trees,  but  before  they 
could  do  so  several  casualties  had  occurred.  Six  horses 
were  lying  dead  out  on  the  prairie,  others  were  wounded 
and  bleeding,  but  worse  than  that,  two  old  Arizona  ser 
geants,  veterans  of  a  dozen  fights,  and  five  of  the  men 
were  severely  wounded.  Ray's  efforts  to  keep  down 
the  return  fire  were  futile.  As  long  as  the  men  had 
cartridges  and  he  was  not  about,  they  would  fire.  Just 


204  MARION'S  FAITH. 

as  Wayne  the  second  time  rode  out  to  the  front  he  found 
Dana  slowly  dismounting. 

"Are  you  hit?"  he  asked. 

Dana  nodded,  pressed  his  hand  to  his  side,  and  say 
ing  nothing,  walked  up  to  a  neighboring  cottonwood 
and  leaned  against  it,  looking  rather  pale. 

"  Damn  the  luck  !"  growled  Wayne.  "  This  won't 
do.  I  must  get  the  whole  crowd  under  cover." 

"  You  get  under  yourself,"  grinned  Dana.  "  That 
hat  of  yours  looks  like  a  sieve  now.  Yi-ip !  There 
goes  your  horse."  And  forgetting  his  own  pain,  he 
strove  to  aid  the  captain,  whose  horse  had  suddenly 
plunged  forward,  and  was  now  rolling  and  kicking  in 
the  agony  of  death. 

"  I'm  all  right,  Dana.  Poor  old  Ned  !  he's  carried 
me  many  a  mile.  Here,  sergeant,  help  the  lieutenant 
back  to  the  doctor.  Go,  Dana !  I'll  get  the  men 
where  they  belong.  We're  all  right,  once  we  get  in 
the  timber." 

And  so,  little  by  little,  slowly  and  steadily  the  skir 
mishers  fell  back  to  the  shelter  of  the  trees.  There  in 
big  semicircle  they  were  distributed,  each  in  a  little, 
hastily  constructed  rifle-pit  or  shelter  of  his  own,  and 
by  nine  o'clock  this  bright  July  morning  the  first  phase 
of  the  combat  was  at  an  end,  and  there  was  time  to 
*'  take  account  of  stock." 

Dana  was  shot  through  the  side  by  a  Henry  or  Win 
chester  bullet,  and  was  lying  under  the  bank  faint, 
thirsty,  but  plucky.  Sergeant  Gwinn  and  two  of  the 
men  were  dead,  and  eight  men  now  needed  the  care  of 
the  surgeon ;  three  of  them  were  senseless,  probably 
mortally  hurt.  At  least  fifteen  horses  were  killed  or 


S  URR  0  UNDED.  205 

rendered  useless ;  the  others  were  "  corralled"  under  the 
bank,  where,  in  a  deep  bend,  they  were  safe  except  from 
long-range  tire.  Ray's  men  on  the  island  had  im 
proved  their  advantage  by  seizing  defensible  positions 
on  the  north  bank,  and,  as  against  two  hundred  and 
fifty  Indians,  with  two  days'  rations  left,  with  abundant 
water  to  be  had  by  digging  in  the  sand,  with  pluck  and 
spirit  left  for  anything,  they  were  not  badly  off,  pro 
vided  the  Indians  were  not  heavily  reinforced  and 
provided  their  ammunition  held  out. 

The  Cheyennes  now  resorted  to  other  tactics.  Leav 
ing  but  few  warriors  scurrying  about  on  the  open  prai 
rie,  both  north  and  south,  they  gathered  in  force  in 
the  timber  up-  and  down-stream  and  began  their  stealthy 
approaches,  keeping  up  all  the  time  a  sharp  fire  upon 
Wayne's  position.  Every  now  and  then  would  come  a 
frantic  cry  from  some  stricken  horse  as  a  random  bullet 
took  effect,  but  few  struck  among  the  men.  The  sur 
geon  and  the  wounded  wrere  well  sheltered  in  a  concave 
hollow  of  the  bank. 

There  was  fortunately  little  wind.  With  a  gale 
blowing  either  up-  or  down-stream,  the  Indians  could 
have  fired  the  timber  and  soon  driven  them  out.  This 
was  well  understood  on  both  sides.  But  the  besieged 
knew  as  well  that  other  methods  would  be  resorted  to, 
and  speedily  they  were  developed.  The  rattling  fire 
that  had  been  kept  up  ever  since  the  first  assault  had 
died  away  to  an  occasional  shot,  when  suddenly  from 
the  down-stream  side  there  came  a  volley,  a  chorus  of 
frantic  yells,  and  then  a  pandemonium  of  shots,  shouts, 
howls,  and  screeches,  answered  by  the  soldiers  with 
their  carbines  and  the  billingsgate  of  some  irrepressible 

18 


206  MARION'S  FAITH. 

humorist.  A  savage  attack  had  begun  on  Hunter's 
men.  Even  as  Wayne  and  Ray,  bending  low  to  avoid 
the  storm,  went  scurrying  through  'the  trees  to  his  as 
sistance,  followed  by  some  half  a  dozen  of  the  "  old 
hands,"  there  came  from  up-stream  just  such  another 
assault,  and  in  ten  seconds  every  able  man  in  the  com 
mand  was  hotly  engaged. 

"  For  God's  sake,  captain,  don't  let  them  waste  their 
fire  !"  shouted  Ray.  "  I'll  go  back  to  the  other  front 
and  hold  them  there." 

"  All  right !  I  understand,  Ray.  You  watch  the 
same  thing  over  there,"  answered  Wayne,  who  at  an 
other  time  would  have  resented  any  suggestions,  but 
had  seen  the  value  of  Ray's  words  a  dozen  times  that 
day.  "  Damn  it !  men.  Fire  slow.  Don't  throw 
away  a  shot.  Let  them  come  closer ;  that's  what  we 
want,"  he  shouted  to  the  soldiers,  who,  lying  behind 
logs  or  kneeling  among  the  trees,  were  driving  their 
missiles  through  the  timber,  where  the  smoke-wreaths 
told  of  the  otherwise  invisible  foe.  Out  on  the  prairie, 
too,  the  mounted  warriors  went  careering  about,  dash 
ing  at  full  speed  towards  the  woods,  as  though  deter 
mined  to  charge,  but  invariably  veering  off  to  right  or 
left  as  they  came  within  three  hundred  yards.  Of 
course,  there  was  no  direction  from  which  the  bullets 
did  not  come  whizzing  into  the  timber,  and  men  were 
more  likely  to  be  hit  in  the  back  than  elsewhere, — one 
of  the  many  disheartening  features  of  such  warfare. 
Almost  every  moment  somebody  was  hit,  though  at  the 
time  it  could  not  be  seen  or  known,  as  all  were  too 
busy  with  what  was  in  their  front  to  look  around. 
Once  in  a  while,  too,  some  lucky  shot  would  send  an 


RAF'S  RIDE   FOR   LIFE.  207 

Indian  pony  to  his  knees  out  on  the  prairie,  or  a  wai- 
rior  would  drop  and  be  borne  off  by  a  ducking,  dodg 
ing  trio  of  his  fellows.  Then  there  would  be  a  shout 
of  triumph  from  the  timber,  answering  yells  of  rage 
and  defiance  from  the  foe ;  but  finally,  after  nearly  an 
hour  of  such  savage  work,  the  Cheyennes  seemed  to  give 
it  up.  Then  came  another  respite,  another  "taking 
of  stock." 

One  of  the  scouts,  one  who  had  refused  to  try  and 
ride  through  to  the  regiment,  was  shot  dead,  and  lay 
on  his  face  among  the  trees.  So,  too,  were  two  more 
of  the  men,  while  six  were  wounded,  and  Wayne  him 
self  had  a  flesh  wound  in  the  thigh.  The  hot  sun  of 
noonday  was  pouring  down,  and  matters  looked  ugly. 

"  Do  you  know  how  much  ammunition  we  have 
left  ?"  asked  Mr.  Ray,  in  a  low  tone,  of  the  command 
ing  officer  about  an  hour  later. 

"  No,"  said  Wayne,  looking  anxiously  in  his  face. 

"  Not  twelve  rounds  to  the  man." 


CHAPTER    XIV. 


DARKNESS  has  settled  down  in  the  shadowy  Wyo 
ming  valley.  By  the  light  of  a  tiny  fire  under  the  bank 
some  twenty  forms  can  be  seen  stretched  upon  the  sand, 
— they  are  wounded  soldiers.  A  little  distance  away 
are  nine  others,  shrouded  in  blankets  :  they  are  the 
dead.  Huddled  in  confused  and  cowering  group  are  a 


208  MARION'S  FAITH. 

few  score  horses,  many  of  them  sprawled  upon  the  sand 
motionless;  others  occasionally  struggle  to  rise  or 
plunge  about  in  their  misery.  Crouching  among  the 
timber,  vigilant  but  weary,  dispersed  in  big,  irregular 
circle  around  the  beleaguered  bivouac,  some  sixty  sol 
diers  are  still  on  the  active  list.  All  around  them, 
vigilant  and  vengeful,  lurk  the  Cheyennes.  Every  now 
and  then  the  bark  as  of  a  coyote  is  heard, — a  yelp 
ing,  querulous  cry, — and  it  is  answered  far  across  the 
valley  or  down  the  stream.  There  is  no  moon  ;  the 
darkness  is  intense,  though  the  starlight  is  clear,  and 
the  air  so  still  that  the  galloping  hoofs  of  the  Cheyenne 
ponies  far  out  on  the  prairie  sound  close  at  hand. 

"That's  what  makes  it  hard,"  says  Ray,  who  is 
bending  over  the  prostrate  form  of  Captain  Wayne. 
"  If  it  were  storming  or  blowing,  or  something  to 
deaden  the  hoof-beats,  I  could  make  it  easier ;  but  it's 
the  only  chance." 

The  only  chance  of  what  ? 

When  the  sun  went  down  upon  Wayne's  timber 
citadel,  and  the  final  account  of  stock  was  taken  for  the 
day,  it  was  found  that  with  one-fourth  of  the  com 
mand,  men  and  horses,  killed  and  wounded  there  were 
left  not  more  than  three  hundred  cartridges,  all  told,  to 
enable  some  sixty  men  to  hold  out  until  relief  could 
come  against  an  enemy  encircling  them  on  every  side, 
and  who  had  only  to  send  over  to  the  neighboring  res 
ervation — forty  miles  away — and  get  all  the  cartridges 

they  wanted.  Mr.  would  let  their  friends  have 

them  to  kill  buffalo,  though  Mr. and  their  friends 

knew  there  wasn't  a  buffalo  left  within  four  hundred 
miles. 


RAPS  RIDE  FOR  LIFE.  209 

They  could  cut  through,  of  course,  and  race  up  the 
valley  to  find  the  — th,  but  they  would  have  to  leave 
the  wounded  and  the  dismounted  behind, — to  death 
by  torture, — so  that  ended  the  matter.  Only  one  thing 
remained.  In  some  way — by  some  means — word  must 
be  carried  to  the  regiment.  The  chances  were  ten  to 
one  against  the  couriers  slipping  out.  Up  and  down 
the  valley,  out  on  the  prairie  on  both  sides  of  the 
stream,  the  Cheyennes  kept  vigilant  watch.  They  had 
their  hated  enemies  in  a  death-grip,  and  only  waited  the 
coming  of  other  warriors  and  more  ammunition  to  finish 
them — as  the  Sioux  had  finished  Ouster.  They  knew, 
though  the  besieged  did  not,  that,  the  very  evening  be 
fore,  the  — th  had  marched  away  westward,  and  were 
far  from  their  comrades.  All  they  had  to  do  was  to 
prevent  any  one's  escaping  to  give  warning  of  the  con 
dition  of  things  in  Wayne's  command.  All,  therefore, 
were  on  the  alert,  and  of  this  there  was  constant  indi 
cation.  The  man  or  men  who  made  the  attempt  would 
have  to  run  the  gauntlet.  The  one  remaining  scout 
who  had  been  employed  for  such  work  refused  the 
attempt  as  simply  madness.  He  had  lived  too  long 
among  the  Indians  to  dare  it,  yet  Wayne  and  Ray  and 
Dana  and  Hunter,  and  the  whole  command,  for  that 
matter,  knew  that  some  one  must  try  it.  Who  was  it 
to  be? 

There  was  no  long  discussion.  Wayne  called  the 
sulking  scout  a  damned  coward,  which  consoled  him 
somewhat,  but  didn't  help  matters.  Ray  had  been 
around  the  rifle-pits  taking  observations.  Presently 
he  returned,  leading  Dandy  up  near  the  fire, — the  one 
sheltered  light  that  was  permitted. 
o  18* 


210  MARIONS  FAITH. 

"  Looks  fine  as  silk,  don't  he  ?"  he  said,  smoothing 
his  pet's  glossy  neck  and  shoulder,  for  Ray's  groom 
had  no  article  of  religion  which  took  precedence  over 
the  duty  he  owed  the  lieutenant's  horse,  and  no  sooner 
was  the  sun  down  than  he  had  been  grooming  him  as 
though  still  in  garrison.  "  Give  him  all  the  oats  you 
can  steal,  Hogan  •  some  of  the  men  must  have  a  hatful 
left." 

Wayne  looked  up  startled. 

"  Ray,  I  can't  let  you  go  !" 

"  There's  no  helping  it.  Some  one  must  go,  and  who 
can  you  send  ?" 

Even  there  the  captain  noted  the  grammatical  eccen 
tricity.  What  was  surprising  was  that  even  there  he 
made  no  comment  thereon.  He  was  silent.  Ray  had 
spoken  truth.  There  was  no  one  whom  he  could 
order  to  risk  death  in  breaking  his  way  out  since  the 
scout  had  said  'twas  useless.  There  were  brave  men 
there  who  would  gladly  try  it  had  they  any  skill  in 
such  matters,  but  that  was  lacking.  "  If  any  man  in 
the  command  could  '  make  it,'  that  man  was  Ray." 
He  was  cool,  daring,  keen ;  he  was  their  best  and 
lightest  rider,  and  no  one  so  well  knew  the  country  or 
better  knew  the  Cheyennes.  Wayne  even  wished  that 
Ray  might  volunteer.  There  was  only  this  about  it, — 
the  men  would  lose  much  of  their  grit  with  him  away. 
They  swore  by  him,  and  felt  safe  when  he  was  there  to 
lead  or  encourage.  But  the  matter  was  settled  by  Ray 
himself.  He  was  already  stripping  for  the  race. 

"  Get  those  shoes  off,"  he  said  to  the  farrier,  who 
came  at  his  bidding,  and  Dandy  wonderingly  looked  up 
from  the  gunny-sack  of  oats  in  which  he  had  buried 


RATS  RIDE  FOR  LIFE.  211 

his  nozzle.  "What  on  earth  could  that  blacksmith 
mean  by  tugging  out  his  shoe-nails  ?"  was  his  reflec 
tion,  though,  like  the  philosopher  he  was,  he  gave  more 
thought  to  his  oats, — an  unaccustomed  luxury  just  then. 

There  seemed  nothing  to  be  said  by  anybody.  Wayne 
rose  painfully  to  his  feet.  Hunter  stood  in  silence  by, 
and  a  few  men  grouped  themselves  around  the  little 
knot  of  officers.  Ray  had  taken  off  his  belt  and  was 
poking  out  the  carbine-cartridges  from  the  loops, — there 
were  not  over  ten.  Then  he  drew  the  revolver,  care 
fully  examined  the  chambers  to  see  that  all  were  filled  ; 
motioned  with  his  hand  to  those  on  the  ground,  saying, 
quietly,  "  Pick  those  up.  Y'all  may  need  every  owe  of 
'em."  The  Blue  Grass  dialect  seemed  cropping  out  the 
stronger  for  his  preoccupation.  "  Got  any  spare  Colts  ?" 
he  continued,  turning  to  Wayne.  "  I  only  want  an 
other  round."  These  he  stowed  as  he  got  them  in  the 
smaller  loops  on  the  right  side  of  his  belt.  Then  he 
bent  forward  to  examine  -Dandy's  hoofs  again. 

"  Smooth  them  off  as  well  as  you  can.  Get  me  a 
little  of  that  sticky  mud  there,  one  of  you  men.  There  ! 
ram  that  into  every  hole  and  smooth  off  the  surface. 
Make  it  look  just  as  much  like  a  pony's  as  you  know 
how.  They  can't  tell  Dandy's  tracks  from  their  own 
then,  don't  you  see  ?" 

Three  or  four  pairs  of  hands  worked  assiduously  to 
do  his  bidding.  Still,  there  was  no  talking.  No  one 
had  anything  he  felt  like  saying  just  then. 

"  Who's  got  the  time  ?"  he  asked. 

Wayne  looked  at  his  watch,  bending  down  over  the 
fire. 

"  Just  nine  fifteen/' 


212  MARION'S  FAITH. 

"All  right.  I  must  be  off  in  ten  minutes.  The 
moon  will  be  up  at  eleven." 

Dandy  had  finished  the  last  of  his  oats  by  this  time 
and  was  gazing  contentedly  about  him.  Ever  since 
quite  early  in  the  day  he  had  been  in  hiding  down  there 
under  the  bank.  He  had  received  only  one  trifling  clip, 
though  for  half  an  hour  at  least  he  had  been  springing 
around  where  the  bullets  flew  thickest.  He  was  even 
pining  for  his  customary  gallop  over  the  springy  turf, 
and  wondering  why  it  had  been  denied  him  that  day. 

"Only  a  blanket  and  surcingle,"  said  Kay,  to  his 
orderly,  who  was  coining  up  with  the  heavy  saddle  and 
bags.  "  We're  riding  to  win  to-night,  Dandy  and  I, 
and  must  travel  light." 

He  flung  aside  his  scouting  hat,  knotted  the  silk 
handkerchief  he  took  from  his  throat  so  as  to  confine 
the  dark  hair  that  came  tumbling  almost  into  his  eyes, 
buckled  the  holster-belt  tightly  round  his  waist,  looked 
doubtfully  an  instant  at  his  spurs,  but  decided  to  keep 
them  on.  Then  he  turned  to  Wayne. 

"  A  word  with  you,  captain." 

The  others  fell  back  a  short  distance,  and  for  a 
moment  the  two  stood  alone  speaking  in  low  tones. 
All  else  was  silent  except  the  feverish  moan  of  some 
poor  fellow  lying  sorely  wounded  in  the  hollow,  or  the 
occasional  pawing  and  stir  among  the  horses.  In  the 
dim  light  of  the  little  fire  the  others  stood  watching 
them.  They  saw  that  Wayne  was  talking  earnestly, 
and  presently  extended  his  hand,  and  they  heard  Kay. 
somewhat  impatiently,  say,  "  Never  mind  that  now," 
and  noted  that  at  first  he  did  not  take  the  hand ;  but 
finally  they  came  back  to'  the  group  and  Kay  spoke  : 


RATS  RIDE  FOR  LIFE.  213 

"Now,  fellows,  just  listen  a  minute.  I've  got  to 
break  out  on  the  south  side.  I  know  it  better.  Of 
course  there  are  no  end  of  Indians  out  there,  but  most 
of  the  crowd  are  in  the  timber  above  and  below.  There 
will  be  plenty  on  the  watch,  and  it  isn't  possible  that 
I  can  gallop  out  through  them  without  being  heard. 
Dandy  and  I  have  got  to  sneak  for  it  until  we're 
spotted,  or  clear  of  them,  then  away  we  go.  I  hope 
to  work  well  out  towards  the  bluffs  before  they  catch  a 
glimpse  of  me,  then  lie  flat  and  go  for  all  I'm  worth 
to  where  we  left  the  regiment.  Then  you  bet  it  won't 
be  long  before  the  old  crowd  will  be  coming  down  just 
a  humping.  I'll  have  'em  here  by  six  o'clock,  if,  in 
deed,  I  don't  find  them  coming  ahead  to-night.  Just 
you  keep  up  your  grit,  and  we'll  do  our  level  best, 
Dandy  and  I ;  won't  we,  old  boy  ?  Now  I  want  to  see 
Dana  a  minute  and  the  other  wounded  fellows."  And 
he  went  and  bent  down  over  them  saying  a  cheery  word 
to  each ;  and  rough,  suffering  men  held  out  feeble  hands 
to  take  a  parting  grip,  and  looked  up  into  his  brave 
young  face.  He  had  long  known  how  the  rank  and 
file  regarded  him,  but  had  been  disposed  to  laugh  it  off. 
To-night  as  he  stopped  to  say  a  cheering  word  to  the 
Wounded,  and  looked  down  at  some  pale,  bearded  face 
that  had  stood  at  his  shoulder  in  more  than  one  tight 
place  in  the  old  Apache  days  in  Arizona,  and  caught 
the  same  look  of  faith  and  trust  in  him,  something  like 
a  quiver  hovered  for  a  minute  about  his  lips,  and  his 
own  brave  eyes  grew  moist.  They  knew  he  was  daring 
death  to  save  them,  but  that  was  a  view  of  the  case 
that  did  not  seem  to  occur  to  him  at  all.  At  last  he 
came  to  Dana  lying  there  a  little  apart.  The  news 


214  MARIOWS  FAITH. 

that  Ray  was  going  to  "  ride  for  them"  had  been  whis 
pered  all  through  the  bivouac  by  this  time,  and  Dana 
turned  and  took  Ray's  hand  in  both  his  own. 

"  God  speed  you,  old  boy  !  If  you  make  it  all  safe, 
get  word  to  mother  that  I  didn't  do  so  badly  in  my  first 
square  tussel,  will  you  ?" 

"  If  I  make  it,  you'll  be  writing  it  yourself  this  time 
to-morrow  night.  Even  if  I  don't  make  it,  don't  you 
worry,  lad.  The  colonel  and  Stannard  ain't  the  fellows 
to  let  us  shift  for  ourselves  with  the  country  full  of 
Cheyennes.  They'll  be  down  here  in  two  days,  any 
how.  Good-by,  Dana ;  keep  your  grip  and  we'll  lar 
rup  'em  yet." 

Then  he  turned  back  to  Wayne,  Hunter,  and  the 
doctor. 

"  One  thing  occurs  to  me,  Hunter.  You  and  six  or 
eight  men  take  your  carbines  and  go  up-stream  with  a 
dozen  horses  until  you  come  to  the  rifle-pits.  Be  all 
ready.  If  I  get  clear  through  you  won't  hear  any  row, 
but  if  they  sight  or  hear  me  before  I  get  through,  then, 
of  course,  there  will  be  the  biggest  kind  of  an  excite 
ment,  and  you'll  hear  the  shooting.  The  moment  it 
begins  give  a  yell ;  fire  your  guns ;  go  whooping  up 
the  stream  with  the  horses  as  though  the  whole  crowd 
were  trying  to  cut  out  that  way,  but  get  right  back. 
The  excitement  will  distract  them  and  help  me.  Now, 
good-by,  and  good  luck  to  you,  crowd." 

"  Ray,  will  you  have  a  nip  before  you  try  it  ?  You 
must  be  nearly  used  up  after  this  day's  work."  And 
\\ayne  held  out  his  flask  to  him. 

"  No.  I  had  some  hot  coffee  just  ten  minutes  ago, 
and  I  feel  like  a  four-year-old.  I'm  riding  new 


RAY'S  RIDE  FOR  LIFE.  215 

colors ;  didn't  you  know  it  ?  By  Jove  !"  he  added, 
suddenly,  "  this  is  ray  first  run  under  the  Preakness 
blue."  Even  there  and  then  he  thought  too  quickly 
to  speak  her  name.  "  Now,  then,  some  of  you  crawl 
out  to  the  south  edge  of  the  timber  with  me,  and  lie 
flat  on  the  prairie  and  keep  me  in  sight  as  long  as  you 
can."  He  took  one  more  look  at  his  revolver.  "  I'm 
drawing  to  a  bob-tail.  If  I  fail,  I'll  bluff ;  if  I  fill, 
I'll  knock  spots  out  of  any  threes  in  the  Cheyenne 
outfit." 

Three  minutes  more  and  the  watchers  at  the  edge  of 
the  timber  have  seen  him,  leading  Dandy  by  the  bridle, 
slowly,  stealthily,  creeping  out  into  the  darkness ;  a 
moment  the  forms  of  man  and  horse  are  outlined  against 
the  stars  :  then,  are  swallowed  up  in  the  night.  Hun 
ter  and  the  sergeants  with  him  grasp  their  carbines  and 
lie  prone  upon  the  turf,  watching,  waiting. 

In  the  bivouac  is  the  stillness  of  death.  Ten  soldiers 
— carbine  in  hand — mounted  on  their  unsaddled  steeds 
are  waiting  in  the  darkness  at  the  upper  rifle-pits  for 
Hunter's  signal.  If  he  shout,  every  man  is  to  yell  and 
break  for  the  front.  Otherwise,  all  is  to  remain  quiet. 
Back  at  the  watch-fire  under  the  bank  Wayne  is  squat 
ting,  watch  in  one  hand,  pistol  in  the  other.  Near  by 
lie  the  wounded,  still  as  their  comrades  just  beyond, — 
the  dead.  All  around  among  the  trees  and  in  the  sand 
pits  up-  and  down-stream,  fourscore  men  are  listening 
to  the  beating  of  their  own  hearts.  In  the  distance, 
once  in  a  while,  is  heard  the  yelp  of  coyote  or  the 
neigh  of  Indian  pony.  In  the  distance,  too,  are  the 
gleams  of  Indian  fires,  but  they  are  far  beyond  the 
positions  occupied  by  the  besieging  warriors.  Dark- 


216  MARION'S  FAITH. 

ness  shrouds  them.  Far  aloft  the  stars  are  twinkling 
through  the  cool  and  breezeless  air.  With  wind,  or 
storm,  or  tempest,  the  gallant  fellow  whom  all  hearts 
are  following  would  have  something  to  favor,  something 
to  aid  ;  but  in  this  almost  cruel  stillness  nothing  under 
God  can  help  him, — nothing  but  darkness  and  his  own 
brave  spirit. 

"If  I  get  through  this  scrape  in  safety,"  mutters 
Wayne  between  his  set  teeth,  "  the  — th  shall  never 
hear  the  last  of  this  work  of  Ray's." 

"  If  I  get  through  this  night,"  mutters  Ray  to  him 
self,  far  out  on  the  prairie  now,  where  he  can  hear 
tramping  hoofs  and  guttural  voices,  "it  will  be  the 
best  run  ever  made  for  the  Sanford  blue,  though  I  do 
make  it." 

Nearly  five  minutes  have  passed,  and  the  silence  has 
been  unbroken  by  shot  or  shout.  The  suspense  is  be 
coming  unbearable  in  the  bivouac,  where  every  man  is 
listening,  hardly  daring  to  draw  breath.  At  last  Hun 
ter,  rising  to  his  knees,  which  are  all  a  tremble  with 
excitement,  mutters  to  Sergeant  Roach,  who  is  still 
crouching  be-ide  him, — 

"  By  Heaven  !  I  believe  he'll  slip  through  without 
being  seen." 

Hardly  has  he  spoken  when  far,  far  out  to  the  south 
west  two  bright  flashes  leap  through  the  darkness. 
Before  the  report  can  reach  them  there  comes  another, 
not  so  brilliant.  Then,  the  ringing  bang,  bang  of  two 
rifles,  the  answering  crack  of  a  revolver. 

"  Quick,  men.  Go  /"  yells  Hunter,  and  darts  head 
long  through  the  timber  back  to  the  stream.  There  is 
a  sudden  burst  of  shots  and  yells  and  soldier  cheers  ;  a 


RAFS  RIDE  FOR  LIFE.  217 

mighty  crash  and  sputter  and  thunder  of  hoofs  up  the 
stream-bed ;  a  foot  dash,  yelling  like  demons,  of  the 
men  at  the  west  end  in  support  of  the  mounted  charge 
in  the  bed  of  the  stream.  For  a  minute  or  two  the 
welkin  rings  with  shouts,  shots  (mainly  those  of  the 
startled  Indians),  then  there  is  as  sudden  a  rush  back 
to  cover,  without  a  man  or  horse  hurt  or  missing.  In 
the  excitement  and  darkness  the  Cheyennes  could  only 
fire  wild,  but  now  the  night  air  resounds  with  taunts 
and  yells  and  triumphant  war-whoops.  For  full  five 
minutes  there  is  a  jubilee  over  the  belief  that  they  have 
penned  in  the  white  soldiers  after  their  dash  for  liberty. 
Then,  little  by  little,  the  yells  and  taunts  subside. 
Something  has  happened  to  create  discussion  in  the 
Cheyenne  camps,  for  the  crouching  soldiers  can  hear 
the  liveliest  kind  of  a  pow-wow  far  up-stream.  What 
does  it  mean?  Has  Ray  slipped  through,  or — have 
they  caught  him? 

Despite  pain  and  weakness,  Wayne  hobbles  out  to 
where  Sergeant  Roach  is  still  watching  and  asks  for 
tidings. 

"  I  can't  be  sure,  captain  ;  one  thing's  certain,  the 
lieutenant  rode  like  a  gale.  I  could  follow  the  shots  a 
full  half-mile  up  the  valley,  where  they  seemed  to  grow 
thicker,  and  then  stop  all  of  a  sudden  in  the  midst  of 
the  row  that  was  made  down  here.  They've  either 
given  it  up  and  have  a  big  party  out  in  chase,  or  else 
they've  got  him.  God  knows  which.  If  they've  got 
him,  there'll  be  a  scalp-dance  over  there  in  a  few  min 
utes,  curse  them  !"  And  the  sergeant  choked. 

Wayne  watched  some  ten  minutes  without  avail. 
Nothing  further  was  seen  or  heard  that  night  to  indicate 
K  19 


2J8  MARION'S  FAITH. 

what  had  happened  to  Kay  except  once.  Far  up  the 
valley  he  saw  a  couple  of  flashes  among  the  bluffs,  so 
did  Roach,  and  that  gave  him  hope  that  Dandy  had 
carried  his  master  in  safety  that  far  at  least. 

He  crept  back  to  the  bank  and  cheered  the  wounded 
with  the  news  of  what  he  had  seen.  Then  another 
word  came  in  ere  long.  An  old  sergeant  had  crawled 
out  to  the  front,  and  could  hear  something  of  the  shout 
ing  and  talking  of  the  Indians.  He  could  understand 
few  words  only,  though  he  had  lived  among  the  Chey- 
ennes  nearly  five  years.  They  can  barely  understand 
one  another  in  the  dark,  and  use  incessant  gesticulation 
to  interpret  their  own  speech  ;  but  the  sergeant  gathered 
that  they  were  upbraiding  somebody  for  not  guarding 
a  coulee,  and  inferred  that  some  one  had  slipped  past 
their  pickets  or  they  wouldn't  be  making  such  a  row. 

That  the  Cheyennes  did  not  propose  to  let  the  be 
sieged  derive  much  comfort  from  their  hopes  was  soon 
apparent.  Out  from  the  timber  up  the  stream  came 
sonorous  voices  shouting  taunt  and  challenge,  inter 
mingled  with  the  vilest  expletives  they  had  picked  up 
from  their  cowboy  neighbors,  and  all  the  frontier  slang 
in  the  Cheyenne  vocabulary. 

"  Hullo  !  sogers ;  come  out  some  more  times.  We 
no  shoot.  Stay  there  :  we  come  plenty  quick.  Hullo  ! 
white  chief,  come  fight  fair ;  soger  heap  Afraid  !  Come, 
have  scalp-dance  plenty  quick.  Catch  white  soldier ; 
eat  him  heart  bime  by." 

"  Ah,  go  to  your  grandmother,  the  ould  witch  in  hell, 
ye  musthard-sthriped  convict !"  sings  out  some  irrepres 
sible  Paddy  in  reply,  and  Wayne,  who  is  disposed  to 
serious  thoughts,  would  order  silence,  but  it  occurs  to 


RAPS  RIDE  FOR  LIFE.  219 

him  that  Mulligan's  crude  sallies  have  a  tendency  to 
keep  the  men  lively. 

"  I  can't  believe  they've  got  him,"  he  whispers  to  the 
doctor.  "  If  they  had  they  would  soon  recognize  him 
as  an  officer  and  come  bawling  out  their  triumph  at 
bagging  a  chief.  His  watch,  his  shoes,  his  spurs,  his 
underclothing,  would  all  betray  that  he  was.  an  officer, 
though  he  hasn't  a  vestige  of  uniform.  Pray  God  he 
is  safe !" 

"Will  you  follow  Ray  and  see?  Curiosity  is  what 
lures  the  fleetest  deer  to  death,  and  a  more  dangerous 
path  than  that  which  Ray  has  taken  one  rarely  follows. 
"Will  you  try  it,  reader  ? — -just  you  and  I  ?  Come  on, 
then.  We'll  see  what  our  Kentucky  boy  "  got  in  the 
draw,"  as  he  would  put  it. 

Ray's  footfall  is  soft  as  a  kitten's  as  he  creeps  out 
upon  the  prairie ;  Dandy  stepping  gingerly  after  him, 
wondering  but  obedient.  For  over  a  hundred  yards  he 
goes,  until  both  up-  and  down-stream  he  can  almost  see 
the  faint  fires  of  the  Indians  in  the  timber.  Farther 
out  he  can  hear  hoof-beats  and  voices,  so  he  edges  along 
westward  until  he  comes  suddenly  to  a  depression,  a 
little  winding  "  cooley"  across  the  prairie,  through  which 
in  the  early  spring  the  snows  are  carried  off  from  some 
ravine  among  the  bluifs.  Into  this  he  noiselessly  feels 
his  way  and  Dandy  follows.  He  creeps  along  to  his 
left  and  finds  that  its  general  course  is  from  the  south 
west.  He  knows  well  that  the  best  way  to  watch  for 
objects  in  the  darkness  is  to  lie  flat  on  low  ground  so 
that  everything  approaching  may  be  thrown  against 
the  sky.  His  plainscraft  tells  him  that  by  keeping  in 
the  water-course  he  will  be  less  apt  to  be  seen,  but  will 


220  MARIONS  FAITH. 

surely  come  across  some  lurking  Indians.  That  he  ex 
pects.  The  thing  is  to  get  as  far  through  them  as  possi 
ble  before  being  seen  or  heard,  then  mount  and  away. 
After  another  two  minutes'  creeping  he  peers  over  the 
western  bank.  Now  the  fires  up-stream  can  be  seen  in 
the  timber,  and  dim,  shadowy  forms  pass  and  repass. 
Then  close  at  hand  come  voices  and  hoof-beats.  Dandy 
pricks  up  his  ears  and  wants  to  neigh,  but  Ray  grips 
his  nostrils  like  a  vice,  and  Dandy  desists.  At  rapid 
lope,  within  twenty  yards,  a  party  of  half  a  dozen  war 
riors  go  bounding  past  on  their  way  down  the  valley, 
and  no  sooner  have  they  crossed  the  gulley  than  he  rises 
and  rapidly  pushes  on  up  the  dry  sandy  bed.  Thank 
heaven  !  there  are  no  stones.  A  minute  more  and 
he  is  crawling  again,  for  the  hoof-beats  no  longer  drown 
the  faint  sound  of  Dandy's  movements.  A  few  seconds 
more  and  right  in  front  of  him,  not  a  stone's  throw 
away,  he  hears  the  deep  tones  of  Indian  voices*  in  con 
versation.  Whoever  they  may  be  they  are  in  the 
"  cooley"  and  watching  the  prairie.  They  can  see  noth 
ing  of  him,  nor  he  of  them.  Pass  them  in  the  ten-foot- 
wide  ravine  he  cannot.  He  must  go  back  a  short  dis 
tance,  make  a  sweep  to  the  east  so  as  not  to  go  between 
those  watchers  and  the  guiding  fires,  then  trust  to  luck. 
Turning  stealthily  he  brings  Dandy  around,  leads  back 
down  the  ravine  for  some  thirty  yards,  then  turns  to  his 
horse,  pats  him  gently  one  minute,  "  Do  your  prettiest 
for  your  colors,  my  boy,"  he  whispers ;  springs  lightly, 
noiselessly  to  his  back,  and  at  cautious  walk  comes  up 
on  the  level  prairie,  with  the  timber  behind  him  three 
hundred  yards  away.  Southward  he  can  see  the  dim 
outline  of  the  bluffs.  Westward — once  that  little  arroya 


RAFS  RIDE  FOR  LIFE.  221 

is  crossed,  he  knows  the  prairie  to  be  level  and  unim 
peded,  fit  for  a  race ;  but  he  needs  to  make  a  detour  to 
pass  the  Indians  guarding  it,  get  way  beyond  them, 
cross  it  to  the  west  far  behind  them,  and  then  look  out 
for  stray  parties.  Dandy  ambles  lightly  along,  eager 
for  fun  and  little  appreciating  the  danger.  Ray  bends 
down  on  his  neck,  intent  with  eye  and  ear.  He  feels 
that  he  has  got  well  out  east  of  the  Indian  picket 
unchallenged,  when  suddenly  voices  and  hoofs  come 
bounding  up  the  valley  from  below.  He  must  cross  their 
front,  reach  the  ravine  before  them,  and  strike  the 
prairie  beyond.  "  Go,  Dandy  !"  he  mutters  with  gentle 
pressure  of  leg,  and  the  sorrel  bounds  lightly  away,  cir 
cling  southwestward  under  the  guiding  rein.  Another 
minute  and  he  is  at  the  arroya  and  cautiously  descend 
ing,  then  scrambling  up  the  west  bank,  and  then  from 
the  darkness  comes  savage  challenge,  a  sputter  of  pony 
hoofs.  Ray  bends  low  and  gives  Dandy  one  vigorous 
prod  with  the  spur,  and  with  muttered  prayer  and 
clinched  teeth  and  fists  he  leaps  into  the  wildest  race 
for  his  life. 

Bang !  bang !  go  two  shots  close  behind  him. 
Crack  !  goes  his  pistol  at  a  dusky  form  closing  in  on 
his  right.  Then  come  yells,  shots,  the  uproar  of  hoofs, 
the  distant  cheer  and  charge  at  camp,  a  breathless  dash 
for  and  close  along  under  the  bluffs  where  his  form 
is  best  concealed,  a  whirl  to  the  left  into  the  first  ravine 
that  shows  itself,  and  despite  shots  and  shouts  and  nim 
ble  ponies  and  vengeful  foes,  the  Sanford  colors  are 
riding  far  to  the  front,  and  all  the  racers  of  the  reser 
vations  cannot  overhaul  them. 

19* 


222  MARION'S  FAITH. 


CHAPTER    XV. 

RESCUE   AT   DAWN. 

THE  short  July  night  wears  rapidly  away  in  the  high 
latitudes  of  the  Northwest.  It  is  barely  dark  at  nine, 
and  in  six  hours 

"  Morn,  in  the  white  wake  of  the  morning  star, 
Comes  furrowing  all  the  Orient  into  gold." 

Yet  the  night  wears  wearily,  watchfully  away  in  the 
bivouac  down  among  the  cottonwoods  south  of  the 
Black  Hills.  Exhausted  with  the  excitement  and 
fatigue  of  the  day,  some  few  men  sleep  fitfully  at 
times,  and  other  few  doze  once  in  a  while  among  the 
watchers.  All  the  livelong  night  there  is  jubilee 
among  the  Indians  above  and  below.  They  keep  up 
their  bowlings  and  war-dances  in  prospective  triumph, 
for,  so  far  as  they  can  learn,  they  have  done  no  more 
damage  to  the  soldiers  than  the  killing  of  a  few  horses 
and  the  wounding  of  some  half  a  dozen  men.  Their 
own  loss  has  been  greater  than  that,  and  there  is  mourn 
ing  for  some  of  the  braves  slain  in  the  combat  of  the 
day.  They  know  that  escape  is  impossible  to  the  sol 
diers.  They  feel  that  with  another  day  they  can  wear 
out  the  besieged ;  tempt  them  into  firing  off  their  am 
munition,  and,  if  they  can  only  keep  off  their  friends, 
^the  regiment, — they  have  them  sure. 


RESCUE  AT  DAWN.  223 

All  the  same  it  is  pleasing  to  Indian  ideas  of  humor 
to  keep  up  a  delusion  among  the  besieged  of  having 
captured  their  messenger.  We  know  Ray  is  safely  off, 
but  Wayne  and  his  men  have  no  such  comfort,  for,  for 
hours  the  Indians  shout  their  taunts  of  "  Catch  white 
soger ;  eat  'urn  heart,"  and  in  their  deep  anxieties  many 
of  the  men  seem  ready  to  believe  it.  To  tell  the  truth, 
Wayne  has  hard  work  keeping  up  the  pluck  and  spirits 
of  some  of  the  men,  and  towards  morning  the  suffer 
ings  of  the  wounded  are  more  than  he  can  bear.  Every 
little  while  the  roystering  Indians  send  a  rattling  fusil 
lade  in  among  the  timbers,  but  do  no  great  damage 
beyond  making  people  uncomfortable.  Some  of  them 
crawl  close  to  the  lines  of  sentries,  but  find  nothing  to 
encourage  further  inspection  or  advance.  But  Dana 
begs  to  be  lifted  in  his  blanket  and  carried  some  dis 
tance  up-stream,  where  he  can  lie  on  the  sand  and  get 
away  from  the  sound  of  others7  suffering,  and  Wayne 
and  Hunter,  with  two  or  three  men,  bear  him  thither, 
and  there,  under  the  starlight  and  the  waning  moon, 
they  lie  at  full  length  and  softly  talk  over  the  situation. 
There  is  no  disguising  the  truth.  Their  condition  is 
most  precarious  :  hemmed  in  on  every  side ;  ammuni 
tion  almost  gone,  thanks  to  the  reckless  extravagance 
of  the  men  in  twelve  hours'  fighting,  their  only  hope 
lies  in  Ray's  reaching  the  — th  that  night  and  "  rout 
ing  out"  the  whole  command  for  a  dash  to  the  rescue. 
They  never  dreamed,  poor  fellows,  that  Ray  would 
never  find  the  — th  where  they  left  it.  All  hope  would 
have  died  had  they  known  their  comrades  had  gone. 

Yet  that  very  circumstance  stands  at  this  moment  in 
their  favor.  The  Cheyennes  had  learned  with  huge 


224  MARION'S  FAITH. 

delight  that  the  strange  soldiers  had  marched  off  west 
ward,  apparently  abandoning  that  watch  near  the  res 
ervations,  and  leaving  it  safe  for  them  to  scurry  forth 
with  bag  and  baggage,  with  women  and  children,  on 
their  rush  for  freedom — and  Sitting  Bull. 

Sighting  this  little  detachment  of  soldiers  venturing 
on  down  the  valley  instead  of  hurrying  back,  they  had 
signalled  all  over  the  country  calling  in  war-parties  to 
their  aid,  and  formulated  their  scheme  to  ambuscade  and 
"  corral"  it  at  the  narrows  of  the  valley  ;  but  Ray's  vigi 
lance  and  plainscraft  had  defeated  that  scheme ;  though 
they  had  good  chances  yet,  if  they  only  knew  where 
the  regiment  had  gone.  Late  the  previous  evening  it 
had  disappeared  behind  a  prominent  headland  far  up  a 
valley  farther  to  the  south,  and  probably  had  there 
gone  into  camp  for  the  night.  Late  this  night  they  get 
the  news  that  gives  rise  to  vast  speculation  and  some 
genuine  anxiety.  Runners  come  in  who  say  that  instead 
of  camping  there,  the  White  Chief  rode  all  night ; 
turned  northward  soon  as  it  was  dark ;  crossed  this 
very  valley  far  above  them  at  dawn,  and  where  he  went 
from  there  they  couldn't  say.  They  dare  not  follow. 
Was  it  possible  the  White  Chief  was  going  to  beat 
them  at  their  own  tactics  ?  Could  it  be  that  he  was 
going  to  head  them  ^off?  attack  them  in  the  early 
morning  far  to  the  northwest  ?  Lying  on  the  ground, 
the  officers  heard  many  hoof-beats  dying  away  in  the 
distance,  and  wondered  what  it  might  mean.  It  meant 
that  some  fifty  of  their  foemen  had  galloped  away  to 
look  for  their  families  and  the  rest  of  the  band,  and 
warn  them  of  the  new  danger.  It  was  more  than 
certain  that  no  help  could  come  to  the  soldiers  in  the 


RESCUE  AT  DAWN.  225 

valley ;  but  they  must  guard  their  people  against  this 
mysterious  move.  At  daybreak  those  left  behind 
would  resume  the  effort  to  dislodge  the  soldiers,  and 
then  there  would  be  a  revel. 

And  daybreak  comes  all  too  soon.  Far  to  the  east 
the  stars  are  paling,  and  a  grayish  veil  rises  slowly 
from  the  horizon.  One  by  one  the  night-lamps  in  the 
heavens  lose  their  sparkle  and  radiance,  as  the  filament 
of  the  dawn  shrouds  and  stifles  them.  Far  down  the 
valley  tumbling  outlines  of  ridge  and  height  are  carved 
out  in  sharper  relief  against  the  lightening  sky.  There 
is  a  stir  in  the  leaves  overhead  and  the  soft  rustle  of 
the  morning  breeze.  Presently  the  pallid  veil  at  the 
east  takes  on  a  purplish  blush,  that  is  changing  every 
instant  to  a  ruddier  hue.  Faces  are  beginning  to  be 
dimly  visible  in  the  groups  of  defenders,  pinched  and 
drawn  and  cold  in  the  nipping  air,  and  Wayne  notes 
with  a  half  sob  how  blue  poor  Dana's  lips  are.  The 
boy's  thoilghts  are  far  away.  Is  he  wandering  ?  Is  it 
fever  already  ? 

His  eyes  are  closed,  and  he  whispered  to  himself  but 
a  moment  ago.  Hunter  is  taking  a  cat-nap.  Wayne 
is  too  anxious,  too  unhappy  to  sleep,  and  his  wound  is 
stiff  and  painful.  A  veteran  first  sergeant  comes  creep 
ing  up  to  them  for  orders,  and  they  are  brief  enough : 

"  Don't  let  the  men  waste  a  shot.  It's  our  only  hope 
of  holding  out  until  help  can  come.  They'll  be  on  us 
again  soon  as  it  is  fairly  light." 

"  Captain,"  whispers  Dana,  "  have  you  been  awake 
all  the  time  ?" 

"Yes,  lad.     Why?" 

"  Have  you  heard  nothing, — no  signal  ?" 
P 


226  MARION'S  FAITH. 

"  Nothing  ;  not  a  sound.     Why  do  you  ask  ?" 

"  Fm  afraid  I've  been  only  dreaming ;  yet  I  thought, 
I  surely  thought  a  while  ago  I  heard  a  trumpet-call, — 
far  away — far  out  on  the  prairie." 

"Which  way,  Dana?" 

"  Off  to  the  southwest.  I  didn't  like  to  speak  of  it, 
but  I  thought  I  heard  it  twice." 

"  If  Ray  got  through  all  right  that's  where  the  — th 
should  be  coming  from.  It  may  be,  Dana.  It  may 
be,  for  they'd  lose  no  time,  though  Ray  thought  six 
would  be  the  earliest  hour  at  which  he  could  fetch 
them  even  at  a  trot.  It's  only  about  three  now,  or  a 
little  after.  I'll  put  men  on  watch  and  have  them 
listen.  Go  and  bring  the  -trumpeter  to  me,"  he  said,  to 
one  of  the  men. 

The  light  grows  broader  every  moment.  Already 
forms  can  be  dimly  distinguished  up  and  down  the 
stream-bed,  and  mounted  Indians  darting  about  out  on 
the  prairie.  A  sergeant  comes  up  to  the  group  of 
officers  with  quiet  salute  : 

"  Those  fellows  up-stream  are  getting  ready,  captain. 
Several  of  them  mounted  a  few  minutes  ago  and  rode 
away  rapidly  towards  the  southwest.  I  saw  others  out 
on  the  prairie  heading  over  to  the  bluffs.  They  seemed 
excited-like,  and  looked  to  be  in  full  fighting  trim." 

Dana's  eyes  light  with  eager  hope. 

"  Captain,  they  heard  what  I  did.  Some  of  our  fel 
lows  are  off  there,  taking  short  cut  across  country  to 
find  us,  and  are  signalling  with  their  trumpets.  Let 
us  go  farther  out, — to  the  prairie.  I'm  sure  I  heard  it, 
and  we  can  answer." 

Almost  broad  daylight  now,  though  it  is  long  before 


RESCUE  AT  DAWN.  227 

sun-up,  but  in  very  short  time  Wayne,  Dana,  and  the 
trumpeter  are  crouching  just  at  the  edge  of  the  timber, 
listening,  listening,  while  a  prayer  goes  up  with  every 
heart-beat. 

At  last  Dana's  weakness  tells  upon  him.  He  sinks 
down  at  the  bottom  of  a  tree  exhausted,  but  his  ears 
are  still  alert.  Suddenly  he  springs  again  to  his  knee. 
"  There  !  for  God's  sake  listen.  What  is  that  ?" 

And  far,  far  out  to  the  southwest,  far  beyond  the  line 
of  bluffs,  there  rises  upon  the  still  morning  air  soft, 
clear,  floating,  and  oh !  sweeter  than  the  harmonies  of 
seraphs,  the  quick,  joyous  notes  of  officer's  call.  Oh, 
heaven  !  was  ever  reveille  so  blessed  ? 

"  Up  with  you,  Rheinhart !  Answer  them  !  Blow 
your  whole  soul  into  it,  but  make  'em  hear !"  shouts 
Wayne ;  and  the  burly  young  Prussian  rolls  over  on 
his  back,  braces  his  copper  clarion  at  his  lips,  and 
rouses  the  echoes  of  the  valley  with  the  ringing,  jubi 
lant,  pealing  reply.  None  of  the  dolorous  business  of 
Roland  at  Roncesvalles  about  Rheinhart's  performance 
this  time  !  It  is  like  the  bugle-horn  of  Roderick  vich 
Alpine  Dhu, — 

"  One  blast  were  worth  a  thousand  men." 

From  rifle-pit  and  stunted  log, .  from  shore  to  shore, 
the  timber  leaps  into  life  and  rings  with  the  triumphant 
cheers  of  the  besieged. 

"  Down  with  you,  you  idiots  !  back  to  your  holes  !" 
yell  the  officers,  none  too  soon,  for  with  vengeful  howls 
every  Indian  in  the  valley  seems  at  the  instant  to  open 
fire,  and  once  more  the  little  command  is  encircled  by 
the  cordon  of  savage  sharpshooters.  Holding  their 


MARIONS   FAITH. 

own  fire  except  where  some  rabid  young  foeman  too 
daringly  exposes  himself,  the  men  wait  and  listen. 
Little  by  little  the  fury  of  the  attack  draws  away,  and 
only  scattering  shots  annoy  them.  They  can  see, 
though,  that  already  many  Indians  are  mounting  and 
scurrying  oft'  to  the  north  side  of  the  valley,  though 
plenty  remain  in  the  tirnl>er  to  keep  vigilant  watch 
over  their  every  move.  Hunter  begs  permission  to 
mount  and  move  out  with  twenty  men  to  guide  the 
rescuers,  but  there  is  no  ammunition  to  warrant  it. 
All  men  are  needed  just  where  they  are.  Scattering 
shots  keep  coming  in  ;  the  yells  of  the  Indians  still  con 
tinue  ;  the  trumpeter  raises  a  lusty  blast  from  time  to 
time,  but  officers  and  men  are  again  all  eagerly  listen 
ing. 

"  TheVre  coming  !  they're  coming  !"  is  next  the  cry, 
for  distant  shots  are  heard,  then  the  thunder  of  hoofs, 
the  shouts  and  yells  of  excited  Indians;  then  warrior 
after  warrior  comes  darting  back  over  the  bluffs  at  the 
south,  springing  from  his  pony  at  the  crest,  as  though 
for  one  more  shot  at  rapidly-advancing  foe  ;  more  shots 
and  yells  ;  a  trumpet-blare,  and  then, — then  rinsing 
like  clarion  over  the  turmoil  of  the  fight,^-echoing  far 
-  the  still  valley,  the  sound  of  a  glorious  voice 
shouting  the  well-known  words  of  command,  "  Left — 
front — into  line — gallop  !"  And  Dana  can  hold  in  no 
longer.  Almost  sobbing,  he  cries  aloud, — 

"  Jack  Truscott,  by  all  that's  glorious  !  I'd  know 
ice  among  a  million  !" 

Who  in  the  — th  would  not?  Who  in  the  old 
regiment  had  not  leaped  at  its  summons  time  and 
again  ?  Who  that  was  there  will  ever  forget  the  scene, 


RESCUE  AT  DAWN.  229 

— the  welcome  those  wellnigh  hopeless  fellows  give  it 
now  ?  Dana's  men  break  from  their  cover,  and  cheer 
ing  madly,  go  dashing  through  the  timber  towards  their 
persecutors  of  the  day  before.  Hunter's  skirmishers 
push  eastward  through  the  trees  for  one  more  crack  at 
the  besiegers.  Others — cheering  too,  yet  spell-bound — 
cling  to  the  spot,  and  go  wild  with  joy  as  the  long  blue 
line  comes  flashing  into  view  across  the  bluffs  from  the 
south,  the  just  rising  sun  flaming  at  their  crests  and 
tinting  the  wild  war-bonnets  of  the  foe,  who  go  tum 
bling  and  scurrying  away  before  them ;  and  their  old 
adjutant  conies  thundering  down  the  slopes  with  ninety 
splendid  troopers  at  his  heels,  sweeping  the  valley  of 
their  late  humiliation, — riding  home  to  the  rescue. 

Fired  by  the  sight,  some  of  AVayne's  men  seize  their 
saddles  and  throw  them  on  their  excited  steeds,  but 
before  they  can  mount  Truscott's  men  are  whirling  up 
and  down  the  valley,  driving  the  few  remaining  war 
riors  to  the  other  side,  and  leaving  some  wounded 
ponies  and  two  bedizened  braves  prone  upon  the 
prairies.  Quickly  the  leader  conies  darting  through 
the  timber  with  hearty,  yet  laughing,  greeting  for 
Wayne,  and  a  wave  of  the  hand  to  the  cheering  group. 
There  is  no  time  for  compliments  now.  Out  go  the 
skirmishers  across  the  river  bottom,  through  the  trees, 
and  spinning  away  across  the  valley  northward,  whirl 
ing  the  Cheyennes  before  them  until  they  are  driven 
to  the  bluffs.  Then,  as  the  "  halt"  is  sounded,  and 
the  vigilant  line  forms  big  semicircle  to  ward  off* 
further  attack,  and  the  little  pack-mules  with  their 
escort  come  ambling  briskly  in  from  the  south,  Jack 
Tmscott  comes  quietly  back,  lifting  his  broad-brimmed 

20 


230  MARION'S  FAITH. 

scouting-hat  and  wiping  the  sweat  from  his  brow ;  and 
as  they  throng  about  him — officers  and  men — almost 
the  first  question  asked  is, — 

"  And  where  is  Ilay  ?" 

"  Safe,  but  badly  wounded." 

And  then  little  by  little  the  story  was  told.  But  for 
Ray  no  rescue  could  have  come.  The  regiment  was 
miles  away  across  country.  Truscott's  squadron  had 
reached  their  late  camp  the  previous  evening  to  find 
them  gone.  There  was  a  stockade  there,  where,  with 
underground  defences  and  stout  palings,  a  little  com 
pany  of  infantry  stood  guard  over  a  lot  of  ammunition 
and  supplies.  They  found  there  the  sick  and  two 
wounded  of  the  regiment,  a  doctor  and  some  scouts 
who  had  backed  out  of  going,  and  they  also  found  a 
letter  to  Truscott  from  the  colonel  commanding,  telling 
him  that  Wayne  ought  to  be  somewhere  west  of  him 
up  the  next  valley,  to  push  on  and  join  him,  and  then 
together  they  would  be  strong  enough  to  ride  through 
the  Cheyenne  trails  and  find  the  regiment.  Fearing 
that  Wayne  would  get  too  far  up  the  valley,  Truscott 
decided  to  make  a  night  march  due  north  and  strike  it 
some  distance  up-stream.  From  four  P.M.  until  eleven 
they  had  rested,  then  had  coffee,  fed  the  horses,  and 
started.  Somewhere  about  one  o'clock  through  the  dim 
light  of  the  waning  moon  they  caught  sight  of  a 
mounted  man  rapidly  nearing  them  from  the  east,  and 
heard  the  whinny  of  a  horse.  That  was  enough  to 
prove  'twas  no  Indian.  Who  could  it  be  ?  One  or 
two  flankers  galloped  to  meet  him,  and  the  next  thing 
a  sergeant  came  rushing  to  Truscott  at  the  head  of 
column. 


RESCUE  AT  DAWN.  231 

"  My  God !  captain,  it's  Loot'nant  Ray,  an'  he's 
most  dead." 

In  an  instant  Truscott  had  halted  the  command  and 
was  at  the  side  of  his  old  friend,  whom  the  men  had 
lowered,  wTeak  and  faint,  to  the  ground.  The  surgeon 
came,  administered  stimulant,  examined  and  rebound 
his  wound ;  a  bullet  had  torn  through  the  right  thigh. 
and  he  had  bled  fearfully,  but  all  he  seemed  to  think 
of  was  the  errand  on  which  he  came.  In  few  words 
he  told  of  Wayne's  position,  pointed  out  the  shortest 
way,  and  bade  them  be  off  at  once.  Three  men  were 
left  with  him,  one  galloped  back  to  the  station  for  an 
ambulance  and  the  hospital  attendant  there,  and  with 
his  faint  blessing  and  "  good  luck  to  you,  fellows !" 
Ray  had  sent  them  at  lively  lope  bound  for  the  valley 
and  the  rescue.  There  were  men  that  July  morning 
who  hid  their  heads  to  hide  their  tears  as  Truscott 
quietly  told  of  Ray's  heroism  and  suffering,  his  narrow 
escape,  his  imminent  dangers,  all  met  and  borne  that 
they  might  live.  There  were  others  who  cared  not  if 
their  tears  were  seen.  There  was  no  one  there  who 
did  not  vow  that  it  would  go  hard  with  him  if  ever 
man  ventured  to  malign  Billy  Ray  in  his  presence ;  but 
there  was  no  one  there  who  dreamed  that  even  while 
daring  death  to  save  them  the  man  whose  praise  was 
on  every  lip  stood  bitterly  in  need  of  friends,  that 
blackest  calumny,  that  lowest  intrigue,  had  conspired  to 
pull  him  down. 

It  was  a  week  before  the  four  companies  rejoined  the; 
— th,  and  the  reunited  regiment  pushed  northwestward 
towards  the  Big  Horn  Mountains  ;  but  by  that  time  Ray 
with  other  wounded  was  being  carefully  wheeled  back 


232  MARION'S   FAITH. 

to  Russell,  where  the  news  of  his  heroic  exploit  had  pre 
ceded  him,  and  where  widely  different  feelings  had  there 
by  been  excited.  One  household  heard  it  as  it  will  never 
be  forgotten.  Mrs.  Truscott  and  Miss  Sanford  were 
just  seating  themselves  at  breakfast  one  bright  morn 
ing,  when  Mrs.  Stannard  came  rushing  in  all  aglow 
with  mingled  excitement  and  emotion. 

"  Hurrah  for  the  Sanford  colors  !"  she  cried.  "  Read 
that !  I  cannot, — I  cannot !"  And  throwing  them  a  long 
despatch,  she  astonished  her  next-door  neighbors  by 
fairly  bursting  into  tears. 

It  was  with  difficulty  that  the  ladies  could  recover 
composure  in  time  for  the  inevitable  visit  that  they 
knew  must  come  from  Mrs.  "Whaling,  and  did  come  at 
ten  o'clock. 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

HOW   WE   HEARD   THE   NEWS. 

SOME  strange  things  had  been  happening  at  Russell. 
Among  others  the  midnight  serenade  at  Mrs.  Truscott's 
had  been  repeated.  Miss  Sanford  and  Mrs.  Truscott 
both  heard  it  this  time,  and  when  Mrs.  Truscott  would 
have  gone  to  the  window  to  peep  and  see  who  it  was 
who  sang  so  delightfully,  Miss  Sanford  restrained  her, 
quietly  saying  that  this  was  his  second  visit,  and  she 
knew  it  to  be  Sergeant  Wolf.  Mrs.  Turner  and  other 
ladies,  eagerly  and  naturally  curious  to  find  out  who  it 
was  that  serenaded  one  house  in  the  garrison  twice,  and 
similarly  honored  no  others,  had  plied  Mrs.  Truscott 


HOW   WE  HEARD    THE  NEWS. 

with  questions.  It  was  agreed  that  they  should  tell 
Mrs.  Stannard  and  seek  her  advice,  but  avoid  all  talk 
with  others.  Such  resolutions  are  all  very  well,  but 
rather  impracticable  in  view  of  the  indomitable  energy 
with  which  the  sex  will  pursue  a  train  of  inquiry.  It 
was  delightfully  romantic,  said  the  ladies,  delightfully 
sensational  some  of  them  thought,  and  their  theory  was 
that  some  one  must  be  paying  his  devotions  in  this  way 
to  Miss  Sanford,  which  would  account  for  his  total  ob- 
liviousness  to  the  charms  of  others — married  and  single. 
Mr.  Gleason,  when  first  questioned,  had  assumed  that 
air  of  conscious  negation,  of  confirmatory  disclaimer, 
which  is  calculated  to  impress  the  hearer  with  the  be 
lief  that,  despite  denial,  he  was  deserving  the  soft  im 
peachment.  Gleason  would  gladly  have  assumed  the 
responsibility.  For  a  whole  day  he  was  the  hero,  to 
many  feminine  minds,  of  the  serenades,  and  the  recipi 
ent  of  a  dozen  warm  invitations  to  come  and  sing  for 
them  that  evening ;  but  before  nightfall  one  theory  re 
ceived  a  shock  which  was  followed  in  an  hour  by  an 
other.  The  first  was  when  Mrs.  Whaling  placidly 
asserted  that  she  knew  all  about  the  serenades.  That 
while  the  supposed  unknown  had  honored  Miss  San- 
ford's  window  twice,  it  was  getting  to  be  an  old  story 
at  the  colonel's,  as  the  troubadour  had  appeared  under 
her  Cecilia's  window  almost  every  night  for — oh,  she 
didn't  know  how  long.  Cecilia  had  blushingly  con 
fessed  that  morning,  and  she,  Mrs.  Whaling,  had  fre 
quently  heard  his  tinkling  guitar  and  sweet  tenor  at  odd 
times.  Now,  among  the  infantry  ladies  it  was  an  older 
story  that  fair  Cecilia  had  a  way  of  arrogating  to  her 
self  attentions  never  intended  for  her,  and  of  having  a 

20* 


234  MARION'S  FAITH. 

fertility  of  invention  which  enabled  her  at  a  moment's 
notice  to  discount  any  story  of  devotions  to  another 
girl  with  exuberant  descriptions  of  others  more  intense 
of  which  she  was  the  prior  object.  Any  statement  of 
her  sainted  child  was  promptly  backed  by  her  adoring 
mother,  and,  well,  there  was  disbelief,  not  loud  but 
deep,  of  this  statement  among  the  infantry  ladies.  As 
for  "  ours," — Mrs.  Stannard  listened  in  silence  but 
with  glistening  eyes ;  Mrs.  Truscott  and  Miss  Sanford 
with  evident  relief;  Mrs.  Turner  and  Mrs.  Wilkins 
with  exclamatory  interest. 

The  second  shock  came  when  a  party  of  ladies,  Miss 
Cecilia  Whaling  being  of  the  number,  alluded  to  Mr. 
Gleason  as  the  probable  Manrico,  and  this  for  the  pur 
pose  of  "drawing  out"  Mrs.  Turner.  "Nonsense!" 
said  Mrs.  Turner.  "  Mr.  Gleason  has  no  more  voice 
than  a  frog.  He  thinks  he  can  sing,  but — you  just 
ought  to  hear  him." 

" Why,  but,  Mrs.  Turner"  said  one  of  the  fair  ad 
vocates,  eager  to  sustain  the  theory  she  advanced,  "  Mr. 
Gleason  as  much  as  admitted  that  he  was  the  man." 

"  He  ?  of  course  he  would  !  Mr.  Gleason  imagines 
there  is  no  accomplishment  he  does  not  possess.  If  you 
need  conviction  ask  him  to  sing." 

Ah,  me !  And  this  was  the  same  lady  who  so  ve 
hemently  stood  up  for  Gleason  in  the  days  when  he  was 
her  devotee — before  she  discovered  that  poker  had  at 
tractions  for  him  before  which  her  own  could  but  "  pale 
their  ineffectual  fires.  Tantsene  animis  ccelestibus  irse  ?" 

If  it  wasn't  Gleason,  then,  who  was  it?  That  was 
what  the  ladies  demanded  to  know, — Mrs.  Turner  and 
Mrs.  Wilkins  being  as  determined  as  their  sisters  of 


HOW   WE  HEARD   THE  NEWS.  235 

the  infantry.  It  was  evident  all  too  soon  that  the  sub 
ject  annoyed  and  embarrassed  Mrs.  Truscott.  She 
colored  painfully  when  it  was  mentioned  in  her  pres 
ence.  This  only  whetted  the  zeal  and  inquisitiveness 
of  the  inquisitors.  In  one  form  or  other  it  was  con 
stantly  being  brought  up  in  her  presence,  and  her  every 
look  and  gesture  was  narrowly  scanned.  Mrs.  Turner 
grew  wild  with  curiosity.  Here  was  a  mystery  indeed  ! 
From  Mrs.  Stannard  she  could  extract  nothing.  From 
Miss  Sanford  she  received  smiling,  gracious  treatment 
at  all  times,  but  nothing  tangible  in  the  way  of  infor 
mation.  She  almost  made  up  her  mind  to  be  gracious 
to  Mr.  Gleason,  to  be  enticing,  in  fact ;  but  before  her 
wiles  could  take  effect  other  developments  had  rendered 
that  course  impracticable. 

Gleason  himself,  as  we  have  seen,  had  taken  prompt 
measures  to  satisfy  himself  as  to  the  identity  of  the 
serenader.  His  next  step  was  to  institute  inquiries  as 
to  just  what  was  meant  by  these  demonstrations  on  part 
of  the  sergeant.  Insidious  questions  were  propounded 
to  Mrs.  Stannard,  Mrs.  Truscott,  and  Miss  Sanford, 
only  to  mystify  him  the  more.  They  would  say  noth 
ing  to  enlighten  him ;  but  he  plainly  saw  that  each  one 
of  the  three  was  conscious  that  Wolf  was  the  midnight 
visitor,  and  that  two  of  the  three  were  in  possession  of 
knowledge  with  regard  to  the  mysterious  soldier  which 
he  could  not  fathom.  He  took  to  studying  Wolf;  sent 
for  him  frequently ;  had  long  talks  with  him  ostensibly 
as  to  his  duties  with  recruits,  but  began  to  "  draw  him 
out"  as  to  his  past.  All  he  could  learn  was  that  he  had 
come  to  this  country  determined  to  enlist,  had  served  a 
few  months  with  Truscott  at  the  Point,  and  had  secured 


236  MARIOWS  FAITH. 

a  transfer  because  he  wanted  active  service.  He  de 
clined  to  tell  what  had  been  his  connections  or  his  life 
before  coming  to  our  shores,  but  he  was  evidently  a  man 
of  education  and  refinement;  he  was  an  admirable 
horseman,  swordsman,  and  drill-master;  he  had  evi 
dently  been  trained  for  the  military  profession.  Now, 
how  was  it  that  he  had  so  readily  acceded  to  the  detail 
which  kept  him  on  duty  at  Russell,  when,  if  he  so 
wanted  active  service,  he  could  have  been  sent  with  the 
regiment?  Gleason's  one  interpretation  of  that  was 
that  the  sergeant  "  loved,  alas,  above  his  station."  It 
behooved  him  now  to  find  out  which  of  the  ladies  at 
Truscott's  had  inspired  this  romantic  passion.  It  oc 
curred  to  him  that  the  discovery  might  be  made  very 
useful.  He  was  plainly  losing  ground  there.  Invita 
tions  to  tea  and  dinner  had  not  been  forthcoming  since 
Truscott's  squadron  marched  away,  and  his  eiforts  to 
see  Miss  Sanford  alone  had  been  frustrated.  Having 
secured  the  detail  which  kept  him  at  the  post  while 
the  regiment  was  out  roughing  it,  he  relaxed  the  assi 
duity  of  his  attentions  to  Mrs.  Whaling,  but  kept  up  his 
hand  with  the  old  colonel  through  the  medium  of  pool 
and  billiards,  though  he  lost  less  frequently.  He  was 
always  having  confidential  chats  with  the  colonel,  and 
when  Captain  Buxton  came  through  on  his  way  to 
catch  the  regiment,  three  days  after  Ray's  departure, 
Gleason  took  him  to  see  the  colonel,  and  the  three  were 
closeted  for  some  time  together.  It  worried  Mrs.  Stan- 
nard,  who  felt  sure  there  was  mischief  brewing,  and  she 
so  wrote  to  the  major,  who  tackled  Buxton  the  moment 
he  joined  with  questions  about  Ray,  and  Buxton  was 
dumb  as  Sam  Weller's  drum  with  a  hole  in  it,  Ray 


HOW   WE  HEARD   THE  NEWS.  237 

was  there  and  "chipper"  as  a  cricket.  Everybody 
noted  how  blithe,  buoyant,  and  energetic  he  was,  but 
this  very  trait  prevented  Stannard's  having  more  than 
one  talk  with  him  before  the  separation  of  Wayne's 
command  from  the  regiment.  Ray  was  off  on  scouts 
from  morn  till  night.  Stannard  frankly  told  him  how 
worried  he  had  been,  and  Ray  looked  amazed,  declaring 
he  had  never  been  more  temperate,  and  that  his  accounts 
were  straight  as  a  string.  He  had  played  billiards  but 
had  not  touched  a  card. 

When  told  of  the  allegation  that  he  had  been  inces 
santly  with  Rallston,  and  had  cut  loose  from  Buxton 
and  Gleason,  Ray  replied  that  it  was  incomprehensible 
to  him  how  any  man  who  knew  Buxton  and  Gleason 
could  blame  him  for  that.  He  never  spoke  to  Gleason, 
and  as  the  two  were  always  together,  he  had  no  wish  to 
embarrass  their  good  times.  He  was  with  Rallston,  his 
brother-in-laAV,  who  had  been  most  kind,  hospitable, 
and  jolly ;  but  Ray  went  on  to  say  he  found  that  Ralls 
ton  tried  to  be  sharp  in  palming  off  some  inferior  horses 
upon  them,  and  he  had  blocked  it.  This  had  caused  a 
"  split,"  so  to  speak,  but  nothing  of  consequence,  as  he 
had  immediately  started  to  rejoin.  More  than  this 
there  was  no  time  to  talk  of.  Ray  went  with  Wayne, 
Stannard  with  the  — th,  and  they  saw  nothing  more  of 
each  other  for  many  a  long  day.  Meantime,  Gleason 
was  getting  in  his  work.  Stannard  had  written  briefly 
to  his  wife  to  tell  her  what  Ray  had  said,  but  she  was 
a  keen  judge  of  character,  and  she  could  not  but  note 
the  reticence  and  evident  embarrassment  of  the  young 
adjutant  at  Russell — a  courteous  and  high-minded  fel 
low — whenever  she  mentioned  Ray's  nanu. 


238  MARIONS  FAITH. 

Failing  in  his  effort  to  extract  information  from  Ser 
geant  Wolf,  Gleason  changed  his  methods.  He  began 
worrying  him,  restricting  his  movements  in  various 
ways,  and  hampering  him  with  corrections  and  sug 
gestions.  One  day  a  bandsman,  who  was  excellent  as 
a  clarionet-  and  violin-player,  took  his  discharge-papers 
on  expiration  of  term  of  service,  and  the  bandmaster 
appeared  at  the  adjutant's  office  with  Sergeant  Wolf  to 
announce  that  the  sergeant  was  even  a  better  musician 
than  the  discharged  man,  and  was  desirous  of  giving 
up  his  "  lance"  rank  and  entering  the  band.  Colonel 
Whaling  and  his  adjutant  were  delighted  to  make  a 
temporary  transfer  to  meet  the  case  and  to  write  to 
Mr.  Billings  for  regimental  sanction.  All  too  late, 
Gleason  heard  of  and  tried  to  stop  it.  It  took  Wolf 
out  of  his  control  and  compelled  him  to  resort  to 
watching  him.  He  had  so  palpably  given  it  to  be 
understood  that  he  was  the  sweet  singer  who  had  en 
tranced  the  garrison  in  his  midnight  serenades  that 
Gleason  now  felt  he  could  not  go  to  the  adjutant  and 
tell  him  that  Wolf  was  the  man,  and  that  he  must  pen 
him  up  at  night.  Indeed,  he  rather  wanted  to  have 
more  of  the  serenading.  He  sniffed  a  scandal,  and  in 
his  resentment  at  Mrs.  Truscott's  evident  avoidance  of 
him  and  Miss  Sanford's  serene  indifference,  he  was 
beginning  to  feel  that  he  could  welcome  anything  that 
t would  besmirch  their  names  or  cloud  their  domestic 
peace.  From  his  soldier  servant  he  learned  that  Wolf 
spent  hours  in  writing  letters,  most  of  which  he  burned 
or  lore  up  ;  that  he  held  himself  aloof  from  the  bands 
men,  and  was  trying  to  get  a  little  room  to  himself. 
Every  night  when  he  was  officer  of  the  day,  and  occa- 


HOW   WE  HEARD   THE  NEWS.  239 

sionally  when  he  was  not,  Gleason  patrolled  that  back 
fence  in  search  of  Wolf,  and  one  night  he  was  rewarded. 
He  sprang  suddenly  from  his  hiding-place,  and  the 
soldier  turned  and  ran  like  a  deer,  distancing  Gleason 
in  no  time ;  but  in  his  flight  he  had  dropped  a  letter. 
Gleason  could  hardly  believe  his  eyes  when  he  saw  it 
lying  there  upon  the  ground.  It  bore  no  superscrip 
tion,  but  in  three  minutes  the  lieutenant  had  rushed  to 
his  quarters,  locked  the  doors,  and  shut  himself  up  with 
his  prize.  The  family  next  door  was  startled  by  the 
shout  of  triumph  and  delight  with  which  he  read  the 
last  lines.  He  almost  kissed  the  letter  in  his  ecstasy. 
He  hardly  slept  that  night  from  excitement,  and  it  was 
the  very  next  morning  that  Russell  was  electrified  by 
the  telegraphic  news  that  the  — th  had  had  sharp  fight 
ing  ;  that  the  main  body  of  the  regiment,  early  in  the 
morning  three  days  previous,  had  met  and  driven  back 
to  the  reservation  a  large  force  of  Cheyennes  seeking 
to  join  Sitting  Bull ;  that  Captain  Wayne's  squadron 
had  been  surrounded  and  cut  oif  by  others  of  the  same 
tribe,  and  rescued  by  Truscott's  squadron  at  the  same 
instant  that  the  fight  was  going  on  at  the  War  Bonnet ; 
that  Wayne's  people  would  undoubtedly  have  been 
massacred  to  a  man — as  their  ammunition  was  spent — 
but  for  the  heroism  of  Ray,  who  had  run  the  gauntlet 
through  the  Cheyennes  all  alone  in  the  darkness,  found 
Truscott's  squadron  going  rapidly  away  in  another 
direction,  turned  him  to  the  rescue  just  in  the  nick  of 
time,  and  now,  weak  and  wounded,  was  being  sent  in 
to  Russell;  that  there  had  been  several  men  killed, 
quite  a  number  wounded,  and  that  among  these  latter 
were  Blake,  Wayne,  and  Dana ;  and  that  Blake,  too, 


240  MARION'S  FAITH. 

would  be  sent  to  Russell.  Further  particulars  came 
every  hour  or  two.  Every  report  had  something  ad 
ditional  to  say  of  Ray's  valor,  and  though  he  ground 
his  teeth  in  rage  at  the  thought  of  Ray's  temporary 
exaltation,  Gleason  was  philosopher  enough  to  know 
that  no  man  was  long  a  hero  in  garrison  life,  and  so 
took  advantage  of  the  excitement  to  go  and  besiege  the 
ladies  with  congratulations.  How  could  they  exclude 
him  at  such  a  time  ?  Grace  was  in  an  ecstasy  of  pride 
and  joy  over  her  Jack's  splendid  charge,  and  Marion 
San  ford,  who  gloried  in  deeds  of  valor,  sat  wondering 
if  it  were  really  true  that  she  knew  the  man  whose 
name  was  on  every  lip,  gallant.,  daring  Ray, — that — 
that  even  then,  as  Truscott  wired  them,  he  never  forgot 
he  was  riding  for  her  colors. 

But  it  was  delicious  to  hear  Gleason :  "  I  cannot 
rejoice  too  much,  ladies,  that  it  was  the  troop  /  so  long 
commanded  that  made  the  decisive  charge.  They  have 
fulfilled  my  highest  expectations,"  was  an  oft  repeated 
remark.  And  when  Mrs.  Whaling  came  the  second 
time  to  dispense  tearful  felicitations,  she  found  him 
ready  to  say  amen  to  her  pious  suggestions  that  they 
should  unite  in  praise  and  prayer  to  the  Throne  of 
Mercy. 

The  man  was  indeed 

"  A  rogue  in  grain, 
Veneered  with  sanctimonious  theory." 

They — Grace  and  Marion — had  early  fled  to  their 
rooms  and  knelt  in  overwhelming  gratitude  to  thank 
the  God  they  worshipped  for  the  mercy  vouchsafed  to 


HOW   WE  HEARD   THE   NEWS.  241 

those  so  near  to  them.  He — the  two-faced  villain — 
held  in  his  pocket  at  that  moment  the  letter  with  which 
he  meant  to  crush  the  woman  who  had  dared  to  hold 
him  aloof. 

As  yet,  however,  he  had  no  intention  of  immediately 

using  it.     For  the  time  being,  the  general  rejoicing 

among  the  ladies  made  it  possible  for  even     shirk  like 

Gleason  to  be  among  them  a  good  deal.     They  could 

talk  of  nothing  but  how  splendid  it  was  to  be  with  the 

regiment,  and  how  admirably  this  or  that  officer  had 

behaved,  and  one  would  suppose  that  such  conversation 

would  have  been  galling  to  an  able-bodied  listener ;  but 

that   pachydermatous   quality,  to  which  allusion  has 

been  made,  stood  Gleason  in  good  stead.     He  smiled 

serenely  at  all  their  shafts,  and  spoke  of  the  deeds  of 

the  regiment  quite  as  though  he  had  been  an  active 

participant.      He  hung  around  Truscott's  quarters  a 

good  deal,  bringing  all  manner  of  trivial  items  of  news 

from  time  to  time,  and  even  manufacturing  them  that 

he  might  have  an  excuse  to  see  the  ladies.     He  was  so 

constantly  there  on  pretext  after  pretext  that  he  overdid 

the  matter, — annoyed  both  the  ladies  by  his  persistency 

and  his  covert  allusions  to  Wolf  and  occasional  flings 

at  Ray.     They  begged  Mrs.  Stannard  to  devise  means 

to  rid  them  of  him  at  last ;  and  one  afternoon  when  he 

appeared  at  the  door  and  walked  past  the  servant  into 

the  hall,  as  was  his  custom,  the  maid  had  twice  to 

repeat, — 

"The  ladies  beg  to  be  excused,"  before  he  would 
hear  it. 

"  Say  to  Mrs.  Truscott,  with  my  compliments,  that 
I  have  some  further  news  of  the  regiment,"  he  said, 
L       q  21 


242  MARION'S  FAITH. 

in  a  voice  he  knew  would  penetrate  the  rooms  on  the 
second  floor,  and  it  did ;  but  Mrs.  Stannard  was  there. 
He  had  already  called  and  spent  an  hour  that  very 
morning,  and  the  ladies  had  determined  to  check  it. 

"  Mrs.  Truscott's  compliments,"  said  the  maid,  smil 
ingly,  as  she  came  tripping  down  the  stairs.  "The 
ladies  are  lying  down,  and  would  he  please  leave  word. 
If  it  was  anything  important,  of  course  Mrs.  Truscott 
would  come." 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  Gleason,  loudly ;  "  say  I'll  call  this 
evening  after  retreat." 

But  when  he  came  they  were  all  on  the  piazza,  Mrs. 
Stannard,  too,  and  he  knew  that  he  could  not  be  too 
careful  what  tidings  or  rumors  he  manufactured  in  her 
presence.  Again,  on  the  following  morning,  he  pre 
sented  himself  with  similar  plea.  This  time  the  ladies 
begged  to  be  excused. 

"  Will  you  say  to  Miss  Sanford  that  I  would  greatly 
like  to  see  her  a  few  minutes?"  he  persisted.  And 
then  Miss  Sanford  came  to  head  of  the  stairs, — no  fur 
ther. 

"  What  is  it,  Mr.  Gleason  ?  I  cannot  come  down," 
she  said,  very  civilly,  but  uncompromising  for  all  that. 

"  Er — I  hoped  you  felt  like — er — taking  a  walk  or 
something." 

"  Thanks,  Mr.  Gleason.     I  am  too  busy  to-day." 

"Well,  shall  we  say  to-morrow,  then?"  he  perse 
vered. 

"  To-morrow  I  go  riding  with  Mrs.  Stannard." 

"  Do  you  ?  What  time  ?  Perhaps  I  can  arrange  to 
take  a  gallop  at  the  same  hour.  You've  never  ridden 
with  me  yet."  (Reproachfully.) 


HOW    WE  HEARD   THE  NEWS.  243 

"  You  will  have  to  ask  Mrs.  Stannard.  Now,  Mr. 
Gleason,  I  must  go  back  to  my  desk.  Good-morning." 
And  she  vanished,  sweet  and  smiling,  and  he  "  went 
off  mad,"  swearing  mad. 

That  very  afternoon  an  ambulance  arrived  from 
Laramie  with  Ray.  Oh,  what  a  jubilee  they  had  ! 
and  how  those  women  fluttered  around  him  as  he  sat  in 
a  low  reclining-chair  on  the  piazza  of  the  quarters 
made  ready  for  him  !  A  young  assistant  surgeon  was 
with  him,  whom  Ray  cajoled  and  bullied  alternately ; 
called  him  such  military  pet  names  as  "  Pills," 
"Squills,"  and  "Sawbones"  whenever  he  had  occasion 
to  address  him  ;  laughed  him  out  of  all  his  feeble  pro 
tests  against  "  exciting  himself,"  and  bade  him  reserve 
his  ministrations  for  Blake,  who  would  be  in  on  the 
morrow.  The  evening  he  came,  after  he  had  been 
shaved  and  bathed  and  rebandaged,  and  had  his  hair 
trimmed,  and  had  donned  a  very  swell  brand-new 
fatigue  uniform,  in  which  he  looked  remarkably  natty 
and  well  despite  a  slight  pallor,  Ray  had  insisted  on 
being  trundled  up  the  row  in  a  wheeled  chair,  and  there 
at  Mrs.  Stannard's  they  had  a  little  rejoicing  of  their 
own, — Ray  and  the  young  surgeon  being  surrounded  by 
the  ladies  of  the  — th  for  an  hour,  when  Mrs.  Wilkins 
had  to  go  off  to  her  brood,  Mrs.  Turner  to  visit  some 
infantry  friends,  and  then,  awhile  longer,  Miss  San- 
ford  sat  and  listened  to  the  eager  talk  of  Mrs.  Stannard 
and  Grace  with  the  dark-eyed  cavalryman,  and  those 
dark  eyes  of  his  sought  hers  every  other  minute.  They 
tried  to  get  him  to  talk  of  his  ride.  Even  Grace,  de 
claring  that  he  must,  and  turning  laughingly  to  her 
friend,  exclaimed, — "Come,  Maidie,  add  your  plea. 


244  MARION'S  FAITH. 

You  have  a  right  to  know  how  your  colors  went;" 
and  Miss  Sanford's  face  flamed  with  its  sudden  blush, 
but  she  spoke  no  word.  Mrs.  Stannard,  smiling  and 
happy,  but  seeing  everything  as  usual,  noted  that  Ray, 
too,  had  flushed  underneath  the  deep  tan  of  his  fron 
tier  complexion,  but  he  came  to  the  rescue  blithely  as 
ever. 

"  Ah,  Miss  Sanford,  it  would  have  been  easy  enough 
if  I  had  only  had  Monarchist;  though  Dandy  did 
nobly,  bless  him  !" 

It  was  a  blissful  evening,  and  all  too  short,  for  the 
doctor  simply  ended  it  by  wheeling  Ray  home  at  nine 
o'clock  and  putting  him  to  bed.  For  two  days  more 
he  was  incessantly  up  the  row  in  his  wheeled  chair. 
Twice  Gleason  saw  him  tete-ct-tete  with  Miss  Sanford 
on  the  piazza,  and  the  garrison  ladies  were  slyly  twit 
ting  him  with  his  prospects  of  being  cut  out.  The 
whole  garrison  by  this  time  saw  that  he  and  Ray  were 
not  on  speaking  terms.  Blake,  too,  had  arrived,  a  little 
cross  and  crabbed  for  him,  as  his  wounds  were  painful, 
consisting  mainly  of  bruises  where  his  wounded  horse 
had  fallen  and  rolled  with  him.  But  he  could  limp 
about  and  swear,  and  distort  the  poetry  of  the  old  mas 
ters  and  be  savage  and  cynical.  He  hated  Gleason, 
ridiculed  him  in  public,  and  hailed  him  as  a  military 
Malvolio. 

"  See  how  he  jets  'neath  his  (anything  but)  advanced 
plumes  !"  he  spouted,  as  Gleason  came  gallanting  some 
of  the  garrison  ladies  down  the  line,  desperately  hoping 
to  make  Miss  Sanford  jealous.  Gleason  couldn't  for 
the  life  of  him  explain  what  Blake  meant,  but  he  knew 
there  was  sarcasm  in  it,  and  hated  him  all  the  same.  It 


HOW   WE  HEARD    THE  NEWS.  215 

would  be  but  a  few  days  before  both  the  wounded  offi 
cers  would  be  able  to  perform  light  duty.  There  came 
a  telegraphic  inquiry  as  to  that  from  way  up  at  Fort 
Fetterrnan.  The  colonel  wanted  to  know,  and  old 
Whaling  was  pleased  to  send  the  response.  But  it  was 
a  blow  to  Gleason.  Within  forty-eight  hours  it  brought 
other  telegraphic  orders  from  division  headquarters  to 
send  Lieutenant  Gleason  at  once  to  Fort  Fetterman,  to 
join  his  regiment  at  the  earliest  possible  moment. 

There  was  visible  rejoicing  in  the  garrison.  Gleason 
had  a  vehement  interview  with  the  post  commander 
and  galloped  off  to  town,  where  he  spent  much  time 
telegraphing  and  awaiting  replies.  Then,  to  wear  off 
the  tedium  of  the  intervening  hours,  he  resorted  to 
several  haunts  well  known  to  the  inhabitants  of  those 
days,  and  did  more  or  less  betting  on  uncertain  games, 
and  much  more  wrestling  with  an  insidious  enemy.  He 
was  crazy  drunk  when  lifted  from  the  hack  at  his  quar 
ters  late  that  night ;  and  his  orders  were  to  take  stage 
for  Fetterman  at  three  P.M.  the  following  day.  Cap 
tain  Webb,  returning  from  his  Kansas  court,  would 
reach  Cheyenne  at  noon  and  go  by  same  conveyance. 
It  was  arranged  that  the  two  officers  should  be  in  readi 
ness  at  the  fort,  and  the  coach  would  drive  through  and 
pick  them  up. 


21* 


246  MARIONS  FAITH. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 


ME.  RAY  was  hobbling  about  his  room  blithe  as  a 
lark.  He  had  slept  soundly,  awaked  refreshed,  en 
joyed  his  breakfast  and  the  music  of  the  band  at  guard- 
mounting  ;  was  rejoicing  in  the  arrival  of  Dandy,  who 
had  been  sent  down  from  Laramie,  and  was  now  in  a 
little  paddock  in  the  back-yard  of  the  quarters  he  and 
Blake  occupied  in  company.  He  had  spent  an  hour 
delightfully  at  Mrs.  Truscott's,  where  the  ladies  were 
out  taking  the  morning  air,  and  finally  had  come  home 
to  write  to  "  the  mother"  at  Lexington,  who,  with  all 
her  pride  in  her  boy's  achievements,  was  still  vastly 
worried.  She  had  written  to  the  commanding  officer, 
in  fact,  and  begged  particulars  from  him,  as  her  son  was 
so  averse  to  writing.  The  colonel  had  shown  the  let 
ter  to  Gleason,  who  happened,  as  usual,  to  be  on  hand, 
and  Gleason  had  remarked,  "  Well !  That's  what  I 
always  told  you.  You'll  get  to  know  him  after  a  while." 
Ray  had  written  a  joyous  letter  to  her  and  a  few  jolly 
lines  to  sister  Nell,  whose  last  letter  had  perplexed  him 
somewhat,  and  then,  his  work  finished,  he  had  risen, 
and  was  limping  around  with  the  aid  of  a  stick  singing 
lustily  the  old  darkey  camp-meeting  lines, — 

"  Oh,  de  elder's  on  de  road,  mos'  done  trabbelin', 
De  elder's  on  de  road,  mos'  done  trabbelin', 
De  elder's  on  de  road,  mos'  done  er  trabbelin  ; 
I'se  gwine  to  carry  my  soul  to  de  Lawd," 

when  the  door  opened,  and  in  came  Blake. 


A   COWARD'S  DEED.  247 

"  What  ho !  Mercutio.  Your  bosom's  lord  sits 
lightly  on  his  throne,  anyhow  !  What  you  been  drink 
ing,  Billy  ?  Getting  shot  seems  to  agree  with  you. 
Faith !  lad,  I've  had  a  joyous  morn,  chaffing  Gleason 
and  supervising  his  packing.  What  a  damned  sneak 
that  fellow  is,  anyhow  !"  he  broke  off,  in  sudden  disgust. 

"  What's  he  been  doing  now  ?" 

"  Oh  ! — I  can't  tell  you ;  just  hinting  and  insinu 
ating  as  usual.  He's  no  end  grumpy  at  being  sent  off ; 
seemed  to  think  he  had  the  inside  track  with  the  Jersey 
bluebell.  (Look  out,  William,  or  you'll  be  moth  to 
that  candle  next.  She's  the  winningest  thing  I  ever 
saw, — winning  as  four  aces,  i'  faith  !)  Gad  !  Did  you 
hear  the  K.  O.  W.'s*  speech  about  her  ?  Hullo  !  There 
they  go  now.  She  and  Mrs.  Stannard  driving  to  town. 
Wouldn't  wonder  if  they  were  going  just  to  get  rid  of 
having  to  say  good-by  to  Gleason.  Come,  Billy;  let's 
limp  over  to  the  store  and  have  a  cup  of  sack." 

"B'lieve  not,  Blakie,  I've — well,  let  up  on  it,  so  to 
speak." 

"  What?  Billy?  Oh,  come  now,  that's  too— wh>, 
angels  and  ministers  of  grace !  Ray,  is  it  love  ?  de 
lirious,  delicious,  delusive  love,  again  ?  Sweet  William  ! 
Billy  Doux  !  bless  my  throbbing  heart !  Odds  boddi- 
kins  !  man, — nay,  think, — 

'  'Tis  best  to  freeze  on  to  the  old  love 
Till  you're  solid  as  wheat  with  the  new.' 

Don't  throw  off  on  Hebe  when   Shebe,  maybe,  only 
fooling  thee.      Peace,  say  you?     Nay,  then,  I  mean 

*  Army  argot  for  commanding  officer's  wife. 


248  MARION'S  FAITH. 

no  harm,  sweet  Will.  Here's  me  hand  on't.  But  for 
me,  no  dalliance  with  Venus, — 

1  Her  and  her  blind  boy's  scandalled  company 
I  have  forsworn.' 

You  have  my  blessing,  Billy,  but — 

1  Dost  thou  think  because  thou  art  virtuous 
There  shall  be  no  more  cakes  and  ale  ?' 

A  vaunt !  I'll  hie  me  to  metheglin  and  Muldoon's." 
And  off  he  went,  leaving  Ray  half  vexed,  half  shaken 
with  laughter. 

It  must  have  been  one  o'clock  when,  looking  up  the 
row  as  he  sat  basking  in  the  sunshine,  he  saw  Gleason 
come  out  of  Captain  Truscott's  quarters  and  rapidly 
nearing  him  along  the  walk.  He  had  been  idly  look 
ing  over  a  newspaper  and  thinking  intently  over  mat 
ters  which  he  was  beginning  to  find  vastly  interesting ; 
but  something  in  Gleason's  appearance  changed  Mr. 
Ray's  expression  from  that  of  the  mingled  contempt 
and  indifference  with  which  he  generally  met  him  into 
one  of  more  active  interest.  The  big  and  bulky  lieu 
tenant  lurched  unmistakably  as  he  walked ;  his  face 
was  flushed,  his  eyes  red.  He  was  muttering  angrily 
to  himself,  and  shot  a  quick  but  far  from  intelligent 
glance  at  Ray  as  he  passed. 

u  Now,  what  on  earth  could  have  prompted  him  to 
go  to  Truscott's  looking  like  that  ?"  thought  Ray.  "  I 
wonder  if  Mrs.  Truscott  saw  him.  She  did  not  go 
driving." 

Presently  there  came  a  little  knot  of  ladies  down  the 


A    COWARD'S  DEED.  249 

row.  They  stopped  to  speak  to  Ray,  and  he  rose,  an 
swering  with  smiling  welcome,  and  they  on  the  side 
walk  and  he,  leaning  against  one  of  the  pillars  of  the 
low  wooden  portico,  were  in  the  midst  of  a  lively  chat 
when  his  own  door  opened  and  there  came  from  within 
his  quarters  Mrs.  Truscott's  soldier  servant,  an  old 
cavalryman  whose  infirmities  had  made  him  glad,  long 
since,  to  exchange  the  functions  of  a  trooper  for  those 
of  general  messenger,  bootblack,  and  scullion  on  better 
pay  and  rations.  He  had  come  in  from  the  rear.  He 
held  out  a  note. 

"Mrs.  Truscott  said  I  was  to  find  you  at  once, 
sir." 

"  Pardon  me,  ladies,  I  will  see  what  this  is,"  he  said, 
opening  it  leisurely  with  pleasant  anticipations  of  an 
invitation  for  tea.  He  read  two  lines :  the  color  left 
his  face.  Amaze,  consternation,  distress,  were  all  pic 
tured  there  in  an  instant. 

"  Excuse  me  !  I  must  go  to  Mrs.  Truscott  at  once," 
he  said,  and  went  limping  eagerly,  rapidly  up  the 
walk. 

"  Why,  what  can  she  want  ?"  asked  one  of  the  aston 
ished  ladies. 

"I  cannot  imagine.  Don't  you  think  we— some  of 
us  ought  to  go  and  see  if  anything  is  the  matter  ?" 

u  Nonsense  !  It  is  nothing  where  we  would  be  of 
any  service.  What  makes  me  wonder  is  what  she  can 
want  of  Mr.  Kay ;  what  made  him  look  so  startled  ?" 
(A  pause.) 

"  Didn't  Mrs.  Turner  say  he  was  very  attentive  to 
her  in  Arizona,  and  that  she  threw  him  over  for  Cap 
tain  Truscott  ?"  (Tentatively.) 


250  MARION'S  FAITH. 

"It  wasn't  that  at  aM!"  promptly  interrupted  an 
other,  with  the  positive  conviction  of  womankind. 
"  Mrs.  Wilkins  told  me  all  about  it,  and  I  know.  It 
was  another  girl  Mr.  Ray  was  in  love  with,  and — no, 
it  was  Mrs. — somebody — Tanner,  whose  husband  was 
killed,  and  Mrs.  Truscott  did  break  an  engagement 
with  somebody " 

"  I  didn't  know  about  that.  What  I  say  is  that  Mr. 
Ray  was  desperately  in  love  with  Mrs.  Truscott,  be 
cause " 

And  by  this  time  all  four  were  talking  at  once,  and 
the  thread  of  conversation  became  involved. 

But  Ray  had  hurried  on.  What  he  read  had  indeed 
startled  him. 

"  Come  to  me  the  moment  you  get  this.  I  am  in  fearful 
trouble. 

"G.  P.  T." 

He  knocked  at  the  door,  and  she  herself  opened  it 
and  led  him  into  the  parlor.  She  was  pale  as  death, 
her  eyes  distended  with  misery,  every  feature  quivering, 
every  nerve  trembling  with  fright  and  violent  emotion. 
She  began  madly  walking  up  and  down  the  little  room 
wringing  her  hands,  shivering,  gasping  for  breath. 

"  In  heaven's  name,  what  has  happened  ?" 

"  Oh  !  I  cannot  tell  you  !  I  cannot  tell  you  !  It 
is  too  fearful !  Oh,  Mr.  Ray  !  Mr.  Ray  !" 

"  But  you  must  tell  me,  Mrs.  Truscott.  Try  and 
control  yourself.  Is  anything  wrong  with  Jack  ?" 

"  Oh,  no— no  !" 

"  Good  God  !  Has  there  been  an  accident  ?  Has 
anything  happened  to  Miss  Sanford  ?" 


A    COWARD'S  DEED.  251 

«  No — no — no  !  It's  only  me  !"  she  answered,  hys 
terically  inaccurate  in  her  wild  wretchedness.  "  I'll  tell 
you. — It  is  that  awful  man,  Mr.  Gleason.  He  has  been 
here  and " 

Ray's  face  set  like  stone.  The  words  came  through 
clinched  teeth  now.  He  seized  her  hand — released  it 
as  suddenly. 

11  Tell  me  instantly.  There's  no  time  to  lose.  He 
goes  at  three." 

And  then  at  last,  half  sobbing,  half  raging  with  in 
dignation,  she  managed  to  tell  her  story. 

Gleason  had  come  in  half  an  hour  before,  and  walk 
ing  at  once  into  the  parlor,  had  sent  up  word  that  he 
wished  to  see  her.  She  asked  to  be  excused,  but  he 
called  up  that  it  was  a  matter  of  the  utmost  importance, 
and  she  came  down.  He  closed  the  parlor  door,  stood 
between  her  and  escape,  and  then  proceeded  to  accuse 
her  of  slights  and  wrongs  to  him,  and  of  interfering 
with  his  rights  as  a  gentleman  to  pay  his  addresses  to 
Miss  Sanford, — of  prejudicing  her  against  him.  He 
accused  her  husband  of  treating  him  with  disdain,  and 
then — she  saw  he  had  been  drinking  heavily — he  with 
wild  triumph  told  her  she  was  in  his  power ;  he  had 
long  suspected  her.  She  strove  to  check  him  and  to 
call  her  servants  (for  a  wonder  they  weren't  at  the  key 
hole),  but  she  was  powerless  against  him.  Then  he 
went  on  to  denounce  her  as  a  faithless  wife,  and  to 
accuse  her  of  a  vile  correspondence  with  a  soldier, — an 
enlisted  man,  a  sergeant  formerly  of  her  husband's 
troop.  He  drew  a  letter  from  his  pocket,  and  with 
sneering  emphasis  read  it  aloud.  It  was  an  ardent 
love-letter  from  Wolf,  in  which  he  raved  of  his  love 


252  MARION'S  FAITH. 

for  her,  spoke  of  other  letters  he  had  written,  and  re^ 
minded  her  of  his  happiness  in  past  meetings,  and 
begged  to  be  told  when  he  could  see  her  alone.  She 
was  horror-stricken  ;  indignantly  denied  any  knowledge 
of  him  whatever.  He  simply  sneered,  and  told  her  he 
meant  to  take  that  letter  "  to  crush  her  husband  with" 
the  first  time  he  asserted  any  authority  over  him,  and 
to  hold  as  a  menace  over  her.  Then  she  implored  him 
as  an  officer,  as  a  gentleman,  to  give  it  to  her,  but  he 
only  added  sneering  insult. 

Kay  could  hardly  wait  till  she  had  finished.  At  first 
he  blazed  with  wrath,  then  that  odd  preternatural  cool 
ness  and  sang-froid  seemed  to  steal  over  him.  He 
looked  at  his  watch — One  thirty :  time  enough — 
then  asked  a  quiet  question  or  two.  Had  any  one 
heard  ?  Did  any  one  else  know  ?  Not  a  soul. 
Whom  could  she  tell  ?  Whom  could  she  call  but  him, 
— Mrs.  Stannard  and  Marion  being  away  ? 

"  Don't  worry  a  particle.  I'll  have  him  here  on  his 
knees  if  need  be.  You  say  Wolf  was  the  signature. 
Do  you  know  any Why  !  does  he  mean  that  good- 
looking  German?" 

4nd  to  his  amaze  she  was  blushing  painfully. 

"  Yes,  Mr.  Ray,  and  he  was  with  us  at  the  Point, 
and  always  coming  to  borrow  books  of  Jack,  but 
indeed  he  never  wrote  me,  nor  I " 

"Hush!  Who  but  a  blackguard  would  think  it? 
Just  sit  here  quietly  ten  minutes  or  so.  You  shall 
have  that  letter.  If  any  one  comes,  I  think  it  would 
be  best  to  keep  quiet  about  this  until  later." 

With  that  he  went  hobbling  down  the  row.  There 
were  the  ladies  and  they  accosted  him  to  know  if  any- 


A    COWARD'S  DEED.  253 

thing  were  wrong, — if  they  had  not  better  go  to  Mrs. 
Truscott  ?  et  caetera,  et  csetera ;  but  he  answered  with 
unaccustomed  brilliancy  and  mendacity  that  he  had  a 
scare  for  nothing  because  he  could  not  read  her  fine 
Italian  hand.  She  was  only  getting  some  things  ready 
to  send  to  Captain  Truscott  by  the  stage  to  Fetterman. 
All  the  same  he  slipped  into  his  room,  got  his  revolver, 
gave  a  quiet  twirl  to  the  cylinder  to  see  that  all  was 
working  smoothly,  and  the  next  minute,  without  knock 
ing,  banged  into  the  front  room  of  Gleason's  quarters, 
finding  that  worthy  sluicing  his  head  and  face  with  cold 
water  at  the  washstand. 

"  Who's  that  ?"  he  shouted,  turning  half  round  tu 
find  Ray  standing  less  than  ten  feet  away  with  a  cocked 
six-shooter  gleaming  in  his  hand.  There  was  dead 
silence  a  moment,  then  Ray's  placid  tones  were  heard, — 

"Sit  down,  Gleason." 

Gleason  stood  glaring  at  him  an  instant,  a  ghastly 
pallor  stealing  over  his  face,  his  rickety  legs  trembling 
beneath  him. 

"  Do  you  hear  ?     Sit  down  !" 

And  though  the  words  were  slow,  deliberate,  clean- 
cut,  there  was  a  hissing  prolongation  of  the  one  sibil- 
lant  that  gave  the  impression  of  the  'scape- valve  of 
some  pent-up  power  that  bore  a  ton  to  the  square  inch. 
There  was  a  blaze,  a  glitter,  in  the  dark,  snapping  eyes  ; 
there  was  a  pitiless,  contemptuous,  murderous  set  to  the 
lips  and  jaw ;  a  fearful  significance  in  the  slowly-raising 
pistol  hand  and  the  pointing  finger  of  the  other.  Limp 
as  a  wet  rag,  cowering  like  a  lashed  cur,  terrified  into 
speechlessness,  Gleason  dropped  into  the  indicated 
chair. 

22 


254  MARION'S  FAITH. 

"  If  you  attempt  to  move  except  at  my  bidding  I'll 
shoot  you  like  a  dog.  I  want  that  letter." 

"  What  letter  ?"  he  whimpered,  in  his  effort  to  dodge. 

"  The  letter  you  were  blackguard  enough  to  steal  and 
coward  enough  to  threaten  Mrs.  Truscott  with.  Where 
is  it?" 

"  Ray,  I  swear  I  meant  no  harm  !  It  was  all  a — a 
joke.  I  didn't  dream  she'd  take  it  so  seriously.  I 
picked  it  up  in  her  yard,  and  meant  to  give  it " 

"Shut  up!     Where  is  it?" 

"  I— I  haven't  got  it  now." 

"  You  lie  !     Bring  it  out,  or  I'll "     And  again 

the  rising  pistol  hand  with  dread  suggestiveness  sup 
plied  the  ellipsis. 

Gleason  began  fumbling  in  the  pocket  of  his  waist 
coat.  It  was  evident  that  he  was  on  the  verge  of 
maudlin  tears ;  he  shook  and  trembled  and  began  pro 
testing. 

"  Bah  !"  said  Ray.  "  The  idea  of  showing  a  pistol 
to  such  a  whelp  of  cowardice  !  Hand  me  the  letter  !" 
And  with  an  impatient  step  forward,  he  stood  towering 
over  the  cringing,  shrinking,  pitiful  object  in  the  chair. 
The  nerveless  hands  presently  drew  forth  a  letter  from 
an  inner  pocket.  This  Ray  quickly  seized ;  glanced 
hurriedly  over  it,  stowed  it  in  his  blouse,  then  walked 
to  the  door. 

Fancying  him  going,  Gleason's  drunken  wits  began 
to  rally.  He  half  rose,  and  with  a  face  distorted  with 
rage,  shook  his  fist,  and  his  high,  reedy,  querulous  tenor 
could  have  been  heard  all  over  the  house. 

"  You  think  you've  downed  me,  but,  by  God  !  you'll 
pay  for  this  !  You'll  see  if  in  one  month's  time  you 


A    COWARD'S  DEED.  255 

don't  bemoan  every  insult  you  put  upon  me,  and  if 
she  don't  wish " 

"  Silence !  you  whelp,  you  drivelling  cur !  Don't 
you  dare  utter  her  name  !  Just  what  I'll  do  about  this 
infamous  business  I  don't  know — yet.  A  woman's 
name  is  too  sacred  to  be  dragged  into  court,  even  to  rid 
the  service  of  such  a  foul  blot  as  you;  but,  now  mark 
me  :  by  the  God  of  heaven,  if  you  ever  dare  bring  up 
this  matter  again  to  a  single  soul,  I'll  kill  you  as  I 
would  a  mad  dog." 

And  with  one  long  look  of  concentrated  wrath,  con 
tempt,  and  menace,  Ray  turned  his  back  upon  his  abject 
enemy  and  left  him.  Gleason's  orderly  entering  the 
room  a  minute  after  was  told  to  hand  him  a  tumbler 
and  the  whiskey-bottle,  and  with  shaking  hand  the  big 
subaltern  tossed  off  a  bumper,  while  the  man  went  on 
strapping  and  roping  his  trunks  and  field-kit.  Half 
an  hour  afterwards,  half  sobered  and  partially  restored, 
he  was  able  to  say  a  brief  word  of  farewell  to  the  post 
commander, — a  venomous  word. 

Meantime,  stopping  at  his  quarters  a  moment  to  re 
turn  his  revolver  and  wash  his  hands,  Ray  went  up  the 
row  to  Truscott's.  He  had  not  time  to  knock.  Grace 
was  waiting  for  his  coming  with  an  intensity  of  eager 
ness  and  anxiety,  and  the  moment  she  heard  his  step 
flew  to  the  door  and  admitted  him,  leading,  as  before, 
the  way  to  the  parlor. 

Mrs.  Turner  had,  meantime,  been  apprised  by  some 
of  her  infantry  friends  that  Mrs.  Truscott  had  sent  a 
note  to  Mr.  Ray,  and  also  that  there  must  be  something 
queer  going  on.  Mr.  Ray  had  been  much  agitated  at 
first  and  had  hurried  thither,  and  heaven  only  knows 


256  MARIONS  FAITH. 

the  variety  of  conjectures  propounded.  By  the  time 
Ray  was  seen  coming  up  the  row  again  there  were  four 
ladies  on  Mrs.  Turner's  piazza,  who  were  vehemently 
interested  in  his  next  move.  They  watched  his  going 
to  Truscott's ;  but,  of  course,  watching  was  perfectly 
justifiable  in  view  of  their  anxiety  about  her. 

"Did  you  see?"  said  Mrs.  Turner.  "He  didn't 
even  knock.  She  was  waiting  to  let  him  in." 

It  was  by  no  means  an  unfrequent  thing  for  any  one 
of  the  ladies  of  the  garrison  to  receive  a  visit  from 
some  old  and  tried  friend  of  hers  and  her  husband's 
while  the  latter  was  in  the  field.  Mrs.  Turner  never 
thought  anything  of  having  officers  call  day  or  evening, 
though,  as  a  rule,  there  was  a  sentiment  against  it,  and 
the  majority  of  the  ladies — especially  the  elders — 
thought  it  wrong  for  the  young  matrons  to  receive  the 
visits  of  young  officers  at  any  time  when  the  head  of 
the  house  was  far  away.  Now  that  there  were  only 
four  young  officers  in  garrison  and  more  than  a  dozen 
ladies,  the  feeling  had  strengthened  to  the  extent  of 
considerable  talk.  It  was  therefore  the  unanimous 
view  of  the  ladies  on  Mrs.  Turner's  piazza  that  in  Mrs. 
Truscott's  receiving  two  visits  from  Mr.  Ray  in  one 
morning,  under  circumstances  provokingly  mysterious, 
there  was  something  indecorous,  to  say  the  least,  and 
unless  they  knew  the  why  and  the  wherefore,  it  was 
their  intention  to  so  declare.  "  Indeed  !"  said  Mrs. 
Turner,  "  I  think  Mrs.  Truscott  ought  to  be  spoken  to." 

Utterly  oblivious  of  this  most  proper  and  virtuous 
espionage,  Ray  had  returned  to  Mrs.  Truscott.  She 
looked  at  him  with  imploring  eyes  as  they  entered  the 
parlor. 


DESERTION.  257 

"  There  is  the  letter,"  he  said ;  "  do  you  want  it  or 
shall  I  burn  it?" 

She  shrank  back  as  though  recoiling  from  a  loath 
some  touch. 

"  Oh,  no,  no !  Burn  it !  Here  is  a  match,"  she 
cried,  springing  to  the  mantel,  and  then  her  over 
charged  heart  gave  way.  She  threw  herself  upon  the 
sofa,  burying  her  face  in  her  hands,  sobbing  like  a 
child  with  relief  and  exhaustion.  Ray  touched  the 
match  to  the  paper ;  had  just  fairly  started  the  flame, 
when  laughing  voices  and  quick  footsteps  were  heard 
on  the  piazza.  The  door  flew  open,  and  all  in  a  burst 
of  sunshine  and  balmy  air,  Marion  Sanford,  saying, 
"  Oh,  come  right  in.  You  haven't  a  moment  to  spare, 
and  she'll  be  so  glad  to  see  you  !"  whisked  into  the  room 
followed  by  Captain  Webb. 

Tableau ! 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

DESERTION. 

IN  that  species  of  mental  athletics  known  as  jump 
ing  at  conclusions  Mrs.  Turner  was  an  expert.  That 
she  always  hit  the  mark  is  something  a  regard  for 
veracity  will  not  permit  us  to  assert.  Indeed,  it  was 
not  often  that  her  intellectual  subtlety  enabled  her  to 
extract  from  outward  appearances  the  true  inwardness 
of  the  various  matters  that  entered  the  orbit  of  her  ob 
servations.  All  the  same  she  was  a  born  jumper,  and, 
r  22* 


258  MARIOWS  FAITH. 

like  the  Allen  revolver  immortalized  by  Mark  Twain, 
if  she  didn't  always  get  what  she  went  for  she  fetched 
something.  Mrs.  Turner  could  fetch  a  conclusion  from 
everything  she  saw,  and  was  happy  in  her  facility. 
Time  and  again  her  patient  lord  had  ventured  to  point 
a  moral  from  her  repeated  mistakes  of  judgment,  and 
to  suggest  less  precipitancy  in  the  future;  but  to  no 
good  purpose.  Mrs.  Turner's  faith  in  the  justice  of  her 
prognostications  was  sublime,  though  not  unusual.  It 
has  been  within  the  compass  of  our  experience  to  meet 
and  know  undaunted  women  who,  day  after  day,  could, 
with  equal  positiveness,  announce  their  theories  as  in 
controvertible  facts,  or  flatly  contradict  the  assertions 
of  those  whose  very  position  enabled  them  to  be  well 
informed.  When  Mrs.  Turner  was  confronted  with  the 
proof  of  her  error,  and  gently  upbraided  by  the  placid 
captain  for  being  so  positive  in  her  affirmation  or  de 
nial,  that  pretty  matron  was  wont  to  shrug  her  lovely 
shoulders,  and  petulantly  set  aside  the  subject  with  the 
comprehensive  excuse,  "  Oh,  well !  I  didn't  know." 

In  vain  had  Turner  pointed  out  to  her  that  the  fact 
was  self-evident,  that  in  view  of  that  very  fact  she 
should  have  been  less  confident  in  the  discussion  and 
should  be  more  guarded  in  the  future :  his  efforts  were 
crowned  with  small  success.  Mrs.  Turner's  beliefs  were 
only  too  apt  on  all  occasions  to  be  heralded  by  her  as 
undeniable  facts. 

She  saw  Miss  Sanford  and  Captain  Webb  enter  the 
Truscotts'  soon  after  Ray.  She  saw  Captain  Webb 
come  out  almost  immediately  and  go  thence  to  the 
Stannards',  next  door,  while  Ray  soon  appeared  and 
walked  off  homeward.  She  saw  Mrs.  Stannard  come 


DESERTION.  259 

out  with  Webb,  and  while  the  latter  turned  to  come 
and  say  good-by  to  her,  Mrs.  Stannard  had  gone  at  once 
into  the  Truscotts'. 

"  Is  Mrs.  Truscott  ill  ?"  she  immediately  asked. 

"  Well — a — she  seemed  to  be.  She  was  evidently  a 
good  deal  cut  up  about  something,"  said  Webb,  who  was 
slow  of  speech  and  not  quick  of  intellect. 

"  Well,  what  do  you  think  it  was  ?  What  was  she 
doing?  Tell  me,  captain.  I'm  so  worried  about  her, 
she  has  been  so  unlike  herself  since  Mr.  Truscott  went 
away." 

"  Oh, — ah  ! — she  was  very  pale  and  very — a — well, 
tearful,  you  know.  Been  crying,  I  suppose,"  and 
Webb  shifted  uncomfortably.  He  couldn't  get  over 
that  picture  exactly, — Mrs.  Truscott  springing  up  from 
the  sofa  all  tears  ;  Ray  standing  there  burning  a  letter, 
all  confusion.  Still,  he  believed  it  something  suscepti 
ble  of  explanation,  and  did  not  care  to  talk  about  it. 
But  that  Laramie  stage  would  soon  be  along,  and  Mrs. 
Turner  determined  to  make  the  best  of  her  opportuni 
ties.  Ray  had  never  been  one  of  her  satellites,  and  she 
never  forgave  too  little  admiration,  though  it  would  be 
manifestly  unfair  to  assert  that  she  would  have  forgiven 
too  much.  She  knew  that  he  had  been  quite  devoted 
to  Mrs.  Truscott  in  the  days  that  succeeded  the  troub 
lous  times  at  Sandy,  though  the  days  were  very  brief, 
and  now  it  was  her  impulsive  theory  that  Mrs.  Trus 
cott' s  odd  behavior  and  Ray's  presence  at  the  house 
were  symptoms  of  a  revival  of  that  suspected  flame. 
She  was  trying  to  draw  Webb  out- when  Gleason,  look 
ing  black  as  a  thunder-cloud  and  immensely  melo 
dramatic,  came  in  to  say  good-by  to  her  as  she  stood 


260  MARION'S  FAITH. 

on  the  piazza.  The  stage  came  cracking  in  at  the  front 
gate  at  the  moment  and  stopped  below  at  Gleason's 
quarters,  where  the  orderly  began  stowing  in  their  light 
luggage. 

"  Have  you  said  good-by  to  Miss  Sanford  and  Mrs 
Truscott  ?"  she  asked,  with  mischievous  interest. 

"  Er — no.  I  understand  Mrs.  Truscott  is  not  well. 
I  saw  her  this  morning  a  moment,  and  promised  to 
come  round  later,  but  I  think  it  best  not  to  disturb 
them." 

The  stage  lumbered  up  to  the  front,  and  as  it  came 
Mrs.  Stannard  reappeared  and  hurried  up  the  walk. 
Her  usually  placid  face  showed  evidence  of  deep  emo 
tion  and  barely  repressed  excitement. 

"  Captain  Webb,  will  you  say  to  the  major  that  I 
will  have  a  long  letter  to  go  to  him  by  the  very  next 
mail,  and  that  I  hope  it  will  reach  him  without  delay." 
She  looked  squarely  at  Gleason  with  her  kind  blue  eyes 
blazing,  and  never  so  much  as  recognized  him  by  a  nod. 
"  I  must  return  to  Mrs.  Truscott,  who  is  far  from  well, 
but  tell  Captain  Truscott  not  to  be  alarmed  about  her. 
Good-by,  Captain  Webb.  Come  back  to  us  safe  and 
sound." 

Another  moment  and  the  two  officers  were  borne 
away,  and  Mrs.  Turner  went  down  to  the  Trusootts* 
determined  to  find  out  what  was  the  trouble,  but  came 
away  dissatisfied.  There  was  some  mystery,  and  she 
could  not  solve  it.  What  did  it  portend  that  Mrs. 
Stannard  should  have  cut  Mr.  Gleason  dead  ? 

Later  that  afternoon,  just  before  sunset,  there  was  a 
pretty  picture  in  front  of  Truscott's  quarters.  It  had 
been  a  lovely  day,  at  the  very  end  of  July,  but  the  air 


DESERTION.  261 

was  cool  and  bracing,  and  many  of  the  ladies,  seated 
on  the  long  row  of  piazzas,  or  strolling  up  and  down 
the  gravelled  walk,  had  found  it  necessary  to  wear  their 
shawls  or  wraps.  The  band  was  playing  sweetly  in 
the  circular  stand  on  the  parade,  and  a  dozen  little  chil 
dren  were  romping  about  the  few  patches  of  green  turf 
or  splashing  the  water  in  the  narrow  acequias.  The 
newly-planted  sprigs  of  trees  looked  like  so  many  tent- 
poles  stuck  up  on  the  edge  of  the  diamond  so  far  as 
verdure  was  concerned,  and  the  dingy  brown  of  the 
barracks  on  the  southern  side  had  little  that  could  at 
tract  the  eye.  But  far  beyond,  across  the  creek  valley, 
lay  the  rolling  expanse  of  open  prairie ;  far  beyond  that, 
those  glistening,  gleaming  battlements  of  eternal  snow 
standing  against  the  Colorado  skies.  Only  three  or 
four  officers  could  be  seen  along  the  row — only  half 
a  dozen  soldiers  in  all  the  great  garrison.  The  recruits 
were  all  in  at  supper.  The  officers  and  trained  men 
were  all  far  away  to  the  north.  To  the  delight  of  the 
children  Mr.  Ray's  orderly  came  up  the  road  leading 
Dandy,  and  after  they  had  crowded  around  and  petted 
and  lauded  him  while  a  new  halter  was  being  put  on, 
and  his  glistening  coat  touched  up  for  the  third  time 
since  his  supper  of  oats,  Dandy  was  slowly  led  on  up 
the  row,  stopping  every  few  rods  to  be  patted  and  ad 
mired  by  the  ladies,  and  at  last  reached  Truscott's 
house,  where  Ray  went  and  knocked  softly,  and  Miss 
Sanford  appeared.  Together  they  walked  to  the  gate, 
and  there  they  stood.  Ray  expatiating  on  the  many 
good  points  of  his  pet  and  comrade,  Miss  Sanford 
stroking  the  sorrel's  arching  neck  and  velvet  nozzle, 
and  looking  volumes  of  adulation  into  his  intelligent 


262  MARION'S  FAITH. 

eyes.  Dandy  pawed  and  pricked  up  his  ears,  and 
seemed  proud  and  conscious  as  any  human,  and  would 
have  purred  like  a  kitten  had  he  only  known  how,  so 
soft  was  the  touch  of  her  caressing  hand,  so  sweet  was 
the  praise  of  her  gentle  voice.  Ray  stood  and  watched 
her  with  delight  in  his  eyes. 

"  Oh,  you  beauty  !  Oh,  you  dear,  dear  fellow  !  how 
I  would  prize  you  if  you  were  mine !  Do  you  dream 
what  a  hero  you  are,  I  wonder  ?" 

Both  her  white  hands  were  holding  his  glossy  head 
now,  and  Dandy  stood  there  looking  into  her  animated 
face  as  though  he  loved  every  feature  in  it, — or  was  it 
Ray  ?  Both  of  them  could  hardly  keep  their  eyes  off 
her  an  instant.  She  was  a  puzzle  to  Dandy.  She  was 
an  angel  to  his  master. 

"He  was  hit  twice,  was  he  not?"  she  asked;  and 
when  he  showed  her  the  scars,  she  mourned  over  them 
like  a  mother  over  a  baby's  bumped  forehead. 

"  I  declare,  Mr.  Ray  is  growing  positively  hand 
some  !"  said  Mrs.  Stannard,  looking  out  of  the  window 
at  the  pretty  group.  "  How  delighted  he  is  that  Miss 
San  ford  should  make  so  much  of  Dandy  !"  she  added, 
turning  to  Mrs.  Truscott,  who  lay  there  very  white  and 
weary  looking. 

Grace  smiled.  "  I  must  creep  up  to  the  window  and 
see,"  she  said ;  and  for  a  moment  they  gazed  in  silence. 
He  was  bending  down  over  her,  so  bright  and  brave 
and  gallant,  that  the  next  thing  the  two  ladies  looked 
suddenly  into  each  other's  face,  smiling  suggestively. 

"  Just  what  I  was  thinking !"  said  Mrs.  Stannard, 
laughing ;  and  there  seemed  no  need  to  ask  what  the 
simultaneous  thought  could  be.  Then  they  looked  out 


DESERTION.  263 

again.  "Oh!"  said  Mrs.  Truscott,  impatiently,  "I 
wish  she  would  keep  away  !"  for  down  came  Mrs.  Tur 
ner,  all  smiles  and  white  muslin,  to  join  them.  That 
woman  could  never  understand  that  she  could  be  de 
trop,  was  Mrs.  Stannard's  reflection,  but  it  was  charac 
teristic  of  her  that  she  gave  the  (possibly)  dispropor- 
tioned  thought  no  utterance.  Hay  lifted  his  cap  with 
his  customary  grace  and  courtesy,  but  looked  only  mod 
erately  rejoiced  at  the  coming  of  even  so  bewitching  an 
addition  to  Dandy's  circle  of  admirers.  Possibly  some 
years  of  experience  at  poker  had  given  him  such  ad 
mirable  control  of  all  facial  expression  as  to  enable  him 
to  disguise  the  annoyance  he  really  felt.  Hay  couldn't 
bear  "  humbug"  in  any  form,  and  when  horses  were 
the  subjects  of  discussion  he  was  fiercely  intolerant 
of  the  wise  looks  and  book-inspired  remarks  of  the 
would-be  authorities  in  the  regiment.  To  his  cavalry 
nature  the  horse  had  an  affiliation  that  was  simply 
strong  as  a  friendship.  Nothing  could  shake  Kay's 
conviction  in  the  reasoning  powers,  the  love,  loyalty, 
gratitude,  and  devotion  of  the  animal  that  from  his 
babyhood  he  had  looked  upon  as  a  companion, — almost 
as  a  confidant.  He  had  little  faith  in  Mrs.  Turner's 
voluble  admiration  of  Dandy.  To  use  his  Blue  Grass 
vernacular,  he  "didn't  take  any  stock  (he  called  it 
stawk)  in  that  sort  of  gush."  He  knew  that  there  was 
only  one  four-legged  domestic  animal  of  which  Mrs. 
Turner  was  more  desperately  afraid,  and  that  was  a  cow. 
She  made  a  ninny  of  herself  when  she  went  out  to 
drive,  and  the  mere  pricking  up  of  the  hordes'  ears  was 
to  her  mind  premonitory  symptom  of  a  runaway,  and 
excuse  for  immediate  demand  to  be  set  down  on  the 


264  MARION'S  FAITH, 

open  prairie  and  allowed  to  walk  home.  As  for  rid)Tig; 
she  couldn't  be  induced  to  try.  To  her  a  horse  was  a 
thing  that  kicked  or  bit  or  showed  the  whites  of  his 
eyes  and  set  his  ears  back  and  switched  his  tail  and 
gave  other  evidences  of  depraved  moral  nature,  and  she 
would  no  more  touch  or  approach  one  than  she  would 
a  wild-cat,  except  when  in  so  doing,  with  an  admiring 
audience,  she  could  become  the  central  figure  in  an  ef 
fective  tableau.  Ray  wished  her  in  Jericho,  as  she 
stood  at  arm's  length  and  touched  Dandy  with  the  tips 
of  her  dainty  fingers  and  began  to  speak  of  him  as 
"  it."  Equine  sex  was  a  matter  beyond  Mrs.  Turner's 
consideration,  and  with  eminent  discretion  she  compro 
mised  on  "  it"  as  a  safe  descriptive. 

Then  old  Whaling  came  along  with  his  better  half, 
and  the  lady  stopped  to  see  the  now  celebrated  sorrel, 
and  when  Ray  cordially  addressed  his  post  commander 
with  the  natural  question,  "What  do  you  think  of 
him,  colonel  ?"  he  was  genuinely  surprised  at  the  em 
barrassed,  lifeless  response.  The  colonel  looked  away 
as  he  replied, — 

"Very  pretty,  very  pretty,  Mr.  Ray,"  and  then 
walked  on  as  though  he  desired  to  keep  aloof,  and  Mrs. 
Whaling,  announcing  that  she  was  going  to  see  poor 
Mrs.  Muldoon,  who  was  living  outside  the  gate,  moved 
on  after  her  husband  with  hardly  a  glance  for  Ray. 

Something  strange  in  the  colonel's  manner,  something 
constrained  and  distant  in  that  of  the  adjutant,  had  oc 
curred  to  him  once  or  twice  before,  but  he  had  given 
little  thought  to  it.  Now  he  felt  that  it  could  no  longer 
be  overlooked.  Even  Mrs.  Turner,  who  knew  that  in 
the  regiment  from  the  colonel  down  almost  everybody 


DESERTION.  265 

had  a  cordial  word  for  Ray,  and  that  now  he  was  the 
idol  of  the  hour, — even  Mrs.  Turner  looked  after  the 
colonel  in  amaze  and  then  quickly  at  Ray.  A  light 
i  flashed  over  her  busy  intellect.  This  was  further  con 
firmation  of  her  theory.  The  colonel,  too,  had  heard 
of  Ray's  devotions  to  Mrs.  Truscott  and  was  offended 
thereat. 

But  now  the  sunset  call  was  sounding,  the  band 
inarched  away,  and  Ray  and  his  fair  companion  stood 
watching  Dandy,  who  was  being  led  back  to  his  pad 
dock.  A  deep  flush  was  on  her  cheek.  She,  too,  had 
noted  the  colonel's  cold  and  distant  manner  to  Ray. 
She  saw  that  he  was  stung  by  it,  but  was  trying  to  give 
no  sign  so  long  as  they  were  together.  She  had  learned 
many  things  since  her  return  from  town.  She  and 
Mrs.  Stannard  knew  all  about  the  terrible  affair  of  the 
morning,  and  fully  understood  Ray's  presence  at  the 
house  and  Mrs.  Truscott' s  agitation.  They  had  recalled 
many  of  Gleason's  bitter  sneers  and  insinuations  against 
Ray,  and  all  three  felt  that,  unknown  to  him,  some 
covert  influence  was  at  work  here  at  the  post  to  do  him 
injury,  and  that  his  loyal  services  this  day  in  Mrs. 
Truscott's  behalf  had  but  intensified  the  hatred  against 
him.  It  was  agreed  among  them  that  not  one  word 
should  be  breathed  of  the  affair,  except  what  Mrs. 
Stannard  should  write  to  the  major.  Mrs.  Truscott 
was  sure  that  Jack  would  shoot  Mr.  Gleason  on  sight 
the  moment  he  was  informed,  and  Mrs.  Stannard 
thought  it  quite  probable.  Miss  Sanford  was  silent  in 
this  discussion,  but  all  agreed  that  Ray  must  be  warned 
that  there  was  some  plot  against  him.  It  was  myste 
riously  whispered  among  the  ladies  about  the  garrison. 
M  23 


266  MARION'S  FAITH. 

Knowing  this,  and  knowing  that  she  could  not  well  be 
the  one  to  tell  him,  Marion  San  ford,  with  her  whole 
heart  in  her  beautiful  eyes,  stood  there  by  his  side  as 
the  sun  went  down.  She  liked  him  for  his  frank, 
manly  ways ;  she  honored  him  for  his  loyalty ;  she 
respected  him  for  the  lack  of  certain  traits  which  every 
one  had  been  so  careful  to  ascribe  to  him  as  habitual. 
She  gloried  in  the  daring,  the  self-sacrifice,  the  heroism, 
of  his  conduct  in  the  recent  events  on  the  campaign. 
She  felt  personal  gratitude — deep  and  earnest — for  his 
invaluable  service  to  Grace — to  them  all — this  day ;  and 
just  because  she  could  not  give  utterance  to  him  of  any 
one  of  these  emotions,  was  it  to  be  wondered  at  that,  as 
he  turned  towards  her  again  and  caught  the  earnest 
look  in  her  swimming  eyes,  Ray's  heart  gave  one  great 
bound? 

"  I  want  you  to  ride  him  some  day,  Miss  Sanford. 
I  cannot  yet.  Will  you?"  And  his  voice  was  low, 
and  there  was  an  odd  tremor  in  it  for  Ray. 

"Ride  Dandy?"  she  said,  after  an  instant's  pause, 
"  Mr.  Ray.  If  he  were  my  horse,  after  what  he  has 
done, — after  such  a  deed, — do  you  think  I  would  let 
any  one  use  him  ?" 

"That  would  rule  me  out,  Miss  Sanford,"  he 
answered,  smiling. 

"You?"  She  had  clasped  her  hands.  She  was 
looking  down  nervously  at  the  tip  of  her  little  boot. 
Her  eyes  were  half  suffused,  her  face  flushing,  then 
growing  suddenly  hot  and  cold  by  turns.  She  knew 
his  eyes  were  glowing  upon  her.  She  knew  there  was 
no  earthly  excuse  for  such  absurd  sensations.  She 
knew  that  it  was  highly  unconventional  to  experience 


DESERTION.  267 

any  such  difficulty  of  expression  where  acquaintance 
had  been  so  brief;  but  was  there,  after  all,  anything 
unwomanly  in  letting  him  see  that  she  was  proud  of 
him, — of  his  friendship,  his  daring?  Had  not  every 
other  woman  gushed  over  him  and  called  him  splendid 
and  some  of  them  "  lovely,"  while  she  had  never  yet 
dared  speak  of  it  at  all  ?  He  had  simply  laughed  off 
their  adulation;  but  he  was  not  laughing  now.  She 
never  saw  such  intensity  in  his  face.  Why  !  this  very 
silence  was  dangerous,  distracting.  If  she — she  cared 
for  him  she  could  not  be  more  nervous  and  shy.  With 
sudden  effort  she  looked  up  in  his  face. 

"You?  Why,  Mr.  Ray,  I  never  think  of  one 
without  the  other.  How  could  I  tell  you,"  she  broke 
forth  impulsively,  "how  simply  splendid  I  thought 
you— both  ?" 

And  now,  with  flaming  cheeks,  she  turned  and  ran 
into  the  house,  leaving  him  all  astir  with  delight  at  the 
gate. 

And  yet  when  he  called  that  evening  to  inquire  after 
Mrs.  Truscott,  and  Marion,  with  Mrs.  Stannard,  received 
him  in  the  parlor,  she  was  all  animation,  self-posses 
sion,  and  mistress  of  the  situation  again.  Even  when 
Mrs.  Stannard  found  means  to  leave  them  alone,  Ray 
could  find  no  pretext  for  diverting  the  talk  into  the 
delicious  channel  in  which  it  flowed  at  sunset.  Per 
haps,  after  all,  it  was  only  the  glow  of  departing  day, 
like  the  throes  of  the  dying  dolphin  lending  hectic  ra 
diance  to  his  colors,  that  so  dazzlingly,  bewilderingly, 
beautifully  tinged  the  current  of  her  words,  and  gave 
him  glimpses  of  a  heaven  of  hope  his  wildest  dream 
had  never  pictured. 


268  MARIONS  FAITH. 

But  Mr.  Ray  had  still  a  stern  duty  for  that  night. 
Having  disposed  of  Gleason  during  the  afternoon,  he 
had  sent  for  the  soldier  Wolf,  but  was  told  he  would 
be  on  pass  until  tattoo.  Until  he  had  sifted  the 
matter  to  the  bottom  he  would  not  know  how  to  pro 
ceed  with  regard  to  Gleason.  Charges  of  conduct  un 
becoming  an  officer  and  a  gentleman,  court-martial  and 
publicity,  were  not  to  be  thought  of  as  involving  her 
name  in  such  a  scandal.  After  what  she  had  said  of 
Wolf,  his  first  theory — that  it  was  all  a  forgery  of 
Gleason's — was  abandoned.  He  must  see  Wolf,  ob 
tain  from  him  any  similar  letter  he  might  have,  clearly 
point  out  to  him  the  madness  of  his  conduct,  and  satisfy 
himself  whether  indeed  Wolf  might  not  be  insane. 
Immediately  after  tattoo,  therefore,  he  had  again  de 
spatched  his  orderly  for  the  bandsman,  and  in  two  min 
utes  the  latter  appeared,  knocked,  and  stood,  cap  in 
hand,  within  the  door.  Ray  turned  up  the  lamp  and 
coolly  surveyed  his  man.  The  two  stood  a  moment 
confronting  each  other  in  silence.  Wolf  was  very 
pale,  and  beads  of  sweat  were  starting  on  his  brow, 
but  the  blue  eyes  never  flinched.  He  had  never  served 
a  day  under  the  lieutenant's  command,  but  he  knew 
him  well,  as  all  soldiers  know  the  various  officers  of 
their  regiments:  the  verdict  is  rarely  at  fault.  He 
knew  there  was  no  trifling  with  the  man  before  him ; 
he  felt  that  no  slight  pretext  had  called  him  to  his  pres 
ence,  and  the  instant  he  set  eyes  on  him  he  knew  his 
secret  was  in  his  hands. 

"  Wolf,"  said  Ray,  "  have  you  written  any  letters  to 
Mrs.  Truscott  since  the  one  you  left  in  her  yard  last 
week  ?"  The  question  reads  harshly.  It  was  spoken 


DESERTION.  269 

calmly,  without  a  vestige  of  menace  or  sneer ;  yet  the 
soldier's  hands  clinched,  as  though  in  fierce  convulsion. 
His  forehead  seemed  to  wrinkle  into  one  mass  of  cor 
rugations  ;  he  bowed  his  ghastly  face  in  an  agony  of 
shame. 

"  I  ask  in  no  anger.  Let  me  tell  you  briefly  what 
has  happened.  I  have  no  word  to  add  to  the  reproach 
you  feel,  That  letter  fell  into  the  hands  of  a  scoundrel. 
He  took  it  to  Mrs.  Truscott  this  day,  and  threatened 
her  with  full  exposure ;  accused  her,  in  fact,  of  cor 
responding  with  you  because  you  mentioned  other 
letters." 

"  Oh,  my  God  !  my  God  !  Kill  me,  Herr  Lieuten 
ant,  kill  me  !"  was  the  soldier's  gasping  cry,  and  before 
Ray  could  do  aught  to  stay  him  he  had  plunged  for 
ward  on  his  face,  and  lay  writhing  on  the  painted  floor, 
tearing  wildly  at  his  hair,  calling  down  curses  on  him 
self,  on  his  mad  love,  on  the  hand  that  penned  the 
fatal  letter,  on  the  hound  who  had  carried  it  to  that 
innocent, — that  angel.  Then  on  his  knees,  with  out 
stretched  arms,  he  looked  up  at  Ray,  who  stood  utterly 
astounded  at  his  paroxysm  of  misery  and  despair. 
"His  name,  lieutenant.  I  implore, — I  demand.  I 
demand  his  name  !  Sir,  I  am  not  unworthy  to  ask  it. 
I  was  a  gentleman  in  my  country.  I  am  a  gentleman  ! 
How  know  you  this  ?  Where  is  he  that  has  done  this 
so  foul  wrong?" 

"  Far  away  by  this  time.  Be  calm  now.  I  want 
the  truth  in  this  matter." 

"  Far  away  ?"  He  sprang  to  his  feet.  "  It  is  that 
devil ;  it  is  that  dog  Gleason !  He  spied  upon  me. 
It  was  he  who  found  the  letter.  Ach  Gott !  Where — 

9.Q* 


270  MARION'S  FAITH. 

when  did  he  dare  threaten  that — that  angel  ?  Where  is 
the  letter?" 

"  The  letter  is  all  right.  He  had  to  give  it  up.  It 
was  this  morning  he  threatened  her,  and  she  is  prostrate 
now." 

For  all  answer  he  burst  into  a  mad  passion  of  tears. 
Never  had  Ray  witnessed  such  self-abasement.  Never 
had  he  seen  such  awful  remorse.  It  was  an  hour, 
nearly,  before  he  could  calm  him  sufficiently  to  extract 
from  him  his  story,  and  it  amounted  practically  to 
this : 

He  had  killed  an  opponent  in  a  duel  over  cards  in 
Dresden.  There  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  leave  in 
stantly  and  to  seek  safety  in  America.  His  rank  was 
that  of  rittmeister  in  the  hussars,  and  he  had  nothing 
to  do  but  enlist  in  the  cavalry.  He  was  penniless  and 
starving  when  he  reached  Truscott's  quarters,  and  her 
face,  bending  over  him  as  he  rallied  from  his  swoon, 
had  haunted  him  day  and  night  with  its  beauty,  its 
sympathy  and  tenderness.  She  became  the  idol,  the 
goddess  of  his  life  ;  he  watched  her  day  and  night  in  his 
mad  infatuation ;  he  dreamed  of  her  as  his  own ;  he 
wrote  letter  after  letter  to  her  as  the  sole  means  of  giv 
ing  vent  to  the  wild,  passionate  love  which  had  turned 
his  brain  ;  he  destroyed  them  one  after  another ;  he  never 
by  word,  or  look,  or  deed,  so  far  as  he  knew,  let  her 
see  aught  of  his  hopeless  love.  He  never  thought  to 
let  one  of  these  letters  fall  from  his  hands.  Yet,  when 
ever  he  was  alone  he  wrote.  He  had  sung  under  her 
window  because  in  his  country  everybody  sang  and 
played,  and  it  was  no  unusual  attention  for  any  gentle 
man  to  pay  the  compliment  of  a  personal  serenade. 


DESERTION.  271 

Still  he  had  avoided,  as  he  thought,  all  recognition  until 
the  night  he  found  Gleason  creeping  upon  him.  At 
mention  of  that  name  his  paroxysms  broke  forth  afresh. 
Never,  never  could  he  forgive  himself  for  the  fearful 
misery  he  had  caused  her.  Never,  never  would  he  for 
give  the  hound  who  had  so  basely  dealt  with  her.  "  He 
shall  wipe  out  his  foul  crime  in  his  heart's  blood,"  he 
swore,  and  Kay  had  to  order  silence.  He  gave  Ray 
his  word  that  never  again  would  he  be  tempted  to  write 
a  line ;  he  implored  him  to  ask  for  him  her  forgive 
ness.  Never  again  would  he  cross  her  path.  His 
grief  broke  forth  afresh  every  few  moments,  and  he 
was  weak  as  a  child.  Ray  became  really  alarmed 
about  him,  and  going  into  the  dining-room  where  he 
and  Blake  were  accustomed  to  take  their  bachelor  sus 
tenance,  he  rummaged  around  in  the  dark  for  some 
brandy.  Of  late  he  had  given  up  all  use  of  stimulants, 
and  Blake  was  down  at  the  store.  It  was  some  minutes 
before  he  found  the  decanter,  but  when  he  returned  the 
room  was  empty.  Wolf  had  gone. 

The  next  morning  there  was  a  ripple  of  excitement 
at  the  adjutant's  office.  A  horse  was  missing  from  the 
band  stables,  and  a  musician  from  the  band  barracks. 
At  retreat  that  evening  it  was  definitely  settled  that 
Sergeant  Wolf  had  deserted. 


272  MARION'S  FAITH. 


CHAPTEK    XIX. 

IN   CLOSE   ARREST. 

To  use  his  own  language,  life  had  suddenly  become 
vested  with  new  charms  for  Mr.  Blake.  He  had  found 
his  conversational  affinity.  "  For  years,"  said  he,  "  I 
have  been  like  Pyramus,  peeking  and  scratching  at  a 
wall  for  Thisbe, — only  my  Thisbe  was  never  there." 
But  Pyramus  Blake  had  found  his  mate,  he  swore,  and 
with  huge  delight  he  began  devoting  hours  to  chat  with 
Mrs.  Whaling. 

She  was  old  enough  to  be  his  mother,  though  she 
thought  the  fact  was  known  to  but  few.  She  was  as 
prosaic  as  he  was  fanciful,  though  it  was  her  aim  to 
appear  at  ease  in  all  literary  topics.  She  knew  little  or 
nothing  of  music  or  the  languages,  but  it  was  her  im 
plicit  conviction  that  those  by  whom  she  was  surrounded 
knew  less ;  and  she  chiefly  erred  in  assuming  to  know 
that  of  which  they  frankly  confessed  their  ignorance. 
Aside  from  a  consummate  facility  for  blundering  in 
French,  Mrs.  Whaling  possessed  illimitable  powers  of 
distortion  of  her  mother-tongue,  and  this  it  was  that  so 
fascinated  and  enraptured  Blake  on  short  acquaintance. 
He  rushed  in  one  morning  to  tell  Mrs.  Stannard  that 
nothing  but  jealousy  could  have  prompted  her  and  the 
other  ladies  in  concealing  from  him  Mrs.  Whaling's 
phenomenal  gifts  in  this  line,  and  proclaiming  her  the 
sweetest  sensation  of  his  matnrer  yeais.  If  we  have 


7^  CLOSE  ARREST.  273 

failed  thus  far  in  pointing  out  some  of  the  lingual 
peculiarities  which  had  won  for  this  estimable  lady  the 
title  of  Mrs.  Malaprop,  it  was  through  the  confidence 
we  felt  that  so  soon  as  she  began  to  talk  for  herself  our 
efforts  would  be  rendered  unnecessary.  Overweening 
interest  in  other  ladies  has  kept  her  somewhat  in  the 
background,  a  fact  that  detracts  at  once  from  all  hope 
of  ever  establishing  the  record  of  being  faithfully  his 
toric,  since  all  who  knew  Mrs.  Whaling  are  aware  that 
nobody  could  ever  keep  her  in  the  background  in  any 
assemblage  wherein  she  was  permitted  to  speak  for  her 
self.  Perhaps  it  was  therein  that  lay  one  of  her  direst 
misfortunes,  but  she  knew  it  not,  poor  lady,  and  like 
too  many  of  the  rest  of  us,  could  never  realize  what 
was  and  what  was  not  best  for  her  at  the  time.  Will 
the  day  ever  come  when  the  author  of  this  will  not 
realize  in  mournful  retrospect  what  an  ass  he  made 
of  himself  the  twelvemonth  previous  ?  Mrs.  Whaling 
had  never  studied  French,  but  French  was  the  lan 
guage  of  courts  and  courtesy,  and  it  sounded  well,  she 
was  convinced,  to  introduce  occasional  phrase  or  quota 
tion  in  her  daily  conversation,  and  what  she  meant  when 
she  used  a  big  word  in  her  own  language  was  (as  in 
the  case  of  honest  Mr.  Ballon)  a  secret  between  her 
self  and  her  Maker. 

Mr.  Blake  had  hobbled  over  to  pay  his  respects  soon 
after  his  arrival,  and  was  noticed  shaking  his  head  and 
muttering  to  himself  in  perplexity  at  odd  hours  of  the 
day  thereafter.  The  next  morning  he  was  seen  to  ex 
plode,  as  Mrs.  Whaling  gravely  announced  among  a 
circle  of  her  friends  that  she  considered  Miss  Sanford 
to  be  the  most  soi-disant  creature  she  had  ever  met,  and 


274  MARIONS  FAITH. 

went  on  to  explain  for  the  benefit  of  those  to  whom  her 
French  was  an  impenetrable  mystery, — "  fascinating,  or, 
as  they  say,  seductive."  But  when  she  soon  thereafter 
referred  to  the  general's  magnanimity  in  not  remanding 
to  the  guard-house  an  inebriated  soldier,  who  had 
dropped  and  broken  a  valuable  lamp,  because  "  he 
knew  it  was  only  a  lapsus  linguae"  Blake  became  her 
slave,  and  hovered  about  her  from  morn  till  night  in 
hopes  of  further  revelations.  He  was  getting  lots  of 
fun  out  of  life  just  now  despite  his  aches  and  pains, 
and  was  being  chaffed  extensively  for  replacing  so 
readily  the  absent  and  lamented  Gleason, — the  one  thing 
that  seemed  to  mar  his  happiness. 

Mrs.  Truscott  had  been  ailing  for  two  or  three  days, 
and  the  ladies  were  wont  to  stop  at  her  door  each  morn 
ing  to  make  inquiries  and  suggestions.  Mrs.  Stannard 
had  virtually  moved  in  next  door,  and  was  with  her  at 
all  times.  Mr.  Ray  was  a  frequent  visitor,  despite  the 
fact  that  Mrs.  Truscott  was  unable  to  see  him  (though 
he  always  asked  for  her),  and  the  garrison  was  arriving 
at  the  not  unjustifiable  inference  that  other  attractions 
might  draw  him  thither.  He  was  still  too  lame  to  walk 
or  ride,  had  no  duties  to  perform,  and  much  time  to 
devote  to  calling ;  but  beyond  leaving  his  card  at  the 
commanding  officer's  and  paying  a  courteous  visit  to 
Mrs.  Turner  and  Mrs.  Wilkins,  he  made  no  garrison 
calls  at  all,  for  the  hours  he  spent  with  Mrs.  Stannard 
and  Miss  Sanford  could  hardly  be  so  termed.  He  had 
been  at  the  post  a  week,  and  the  adjutant  and  quarter 
master  of  the  little  command  had  as  yet  failed  to  drop 
in  and  welcome  him  as  is  customary.  They  had  called 
on  Blake  when  Ray  was  "  up  the  row,"  but  had  not 


IN  CLOSE   ARREST.  275 

left  their  cards  or  inquired  for  his  comrade.  Blake 
thought  it  simply  a  piece  of  forgetfulness.  Perhaps 
they  had  asked  and  he  had  forgotten  ;  but  Ray  thought 
otherwise,  and  still,  oddly  enough,  did  not  seem  to  care. 
He  was  happy  in  his  day,  and  life  had  a  new,  strange, 
sweet  interest  for  him  that,  despite  his  past  ephemeral 
flames  for  one  belle  after  another,  was  seriously  influ 
encing  his  life  and  character. 

Blake  wrote  to  his  chums  in  the  regiment  that  Billy 
Ray  wasn't  half  the  fun  he  used  to  be.  "  Never  knew 
a  fellow  lose  all  his  old  self  so  quick.  .  He  has  gone 
back  on  potations  and  poker,  and  it  hasn't  improved 
him  a  whit."  There  was  another  thing  Blake  growled 
at :  Ray  was  mixed  up  in  some  garrison  mystery,  and 
wouldn't  tell  him  anything  about  it.  He  had  "  pumped 
him,"  so  to  speak,  because  Mrs.  Turner  kept  nagging 
him  for  information,  and  Ray  had  only  colored  and 
stumbled  painfully,  and  finally  burst  forth  with,  u  See 
here,  Blake ;  something  has  happened  that  I  accident 
ally  got  mixed  up  in,  but  it's  a  thing  a  man  can't  tell  of, 
so  don't  ask  me ;"  and  Blake  could  only  surmise.  Then, 
too,  there  was  that  desertion  of  Wolf's, — Ray  knew 
something  about  it, — and  then  the  colonel  had  asked 
him — Blake — a  point-blank  question  about  Ray's  habits 
which  amazed  him  and  set  him  to  thinking.  Then  no 
mail  was  received  from  the  regiment  for  four  days,  and 
they  were  all  anxious  ;  and  so  this  bright  August  morn 
ing  quite  a  party  had  gathered  in  front  of  Truscott's, 
for  a  little  batch  of  letters  had  just  arrived,  and  they 
were  discussing  contents  and  comparing  notes.  When 
Mrs.  Stannard  came  down-stairs,  blithe  and  breezy  as 
ever,  the  ladies  began  their  natural  inquiries  for  Mrs. 


276  MARION'S  FAITH. 

Truscott.  She  had  enjoyed  a  good  night's  rest,  at  times 
at  least,  but  had  a  severe  nervous  headache  this  morn 
ing.  This  had  prompted  Mrs.  Turner  to  remark  that 
nervous  headaches  were  such  trying  things ;  she  could 
never  control  them  except  by  liberal  use  of  bromides. 
Mrs.  Wilkins  was  of  opinion  that  if  ever  she  had  one 
she'd  cut  her  head  off  before  she'd  use  the  likes — such 
stuff  as  that ;  lapsing  very  nearly  into  the  vernar  ular 
of  her  early  days ;  and  Mrs.  Whaling  calmly  an 
nounced  that  nothing  ever  did  her  so  much  good  as  a 
warm  embryocation,  whereat  there  was  suppressed  sen 
sation  on  part  of  the  ladies  and  convulsive  throes  by 
Mr.  Blake.  Ray  and  Miss  Sanford,  absorbed  in  con 
verse  on  the  weather,  were  standing  apart  at  the  door 
way  and  heard  nothing  of  it. 

Guard-mounting  was  over;  the  band  had  just  fin 
ished  its  morning  programme  of  music  and  was  going 
away,  when  a  sudden  exclamation  from  Mrs.  Turner 
called  all  eyes  to  the  form  of  the  young  post  adjutant 
coming  up  the  row. 

"  Why  !  What's  Mr.  Warner  in  full  uniform  for, — 
what  can  it  mean  ?" 

Full  uniform  had  not  been  worn  at  the  post  for  any 
duty  since  the  command  left  for  the  front;  guard- 
mounting  was  in  "  undress,"  as  only  half  a  dozen  men 
were  put  on  duty  each  day,  and  the  military  reader  can 
readily  understand  the  sensation  in  the  group  as  the 
white  plumes  of  the  young  adjutant  were  seen.  There 
is  only  one  duty  which,  in  the  absence  of  courts-martial 
and  dress-parades  or  the  like,  will  account  for  an  adju 
tant's  appearing  in  full  uniform  at  such  an  hour,  and 
he  was  coming  straight  toward  them. 


IN  CLOSE  ARREST.  277 

Conversation  ceased  at  once  in  the  group  at  the  gate. 
Ray  and  Miss  Sanford,  standing  at  the  door-way,  were 
still  absorbed  in  their  chat,  and  saw  and  heard  nothing 
of  what  was  coming.  Mrs.  Stannard  turned  pale  and 
tt-embled  so  that  all  could  see  it.  Blake  looked,  as  he 
afterwards  said,  "  six  ways  for  Sunday ;"  then,  as  the 
officer  neared  him,  with  attempted  jocularity  sang  out, — 

"  '  The  king  has  come  to  marshal  us  in  all  his  armor  drest, 

And  he  has  donned  his  snow-white  plume  to  put  us  in  arrest.' 

Who's  your  victim,  Warner  ?"  and  then  stopped  short 
as  Warner  brushed  by,  saying,  in  savage  whisper, — 

"  Shut  up  !  man,  and  get  Ray  away  from  this  crowd 
quick.  I  want  him." 

Blake  simply  stared.  Mrs.  Stannard  turned  quickly 
and  almost  ran  into  the  house.  Mrs.  Whaling  lifted  her 
eyes  heavenward,  as  though  imploring  Divine  mercy  on 
the  doomed  one ;  Mrs.  Turner  flushed,  and  looked  won- 
deringly  from  one  to  the  other ;  Mrs.  Wilkins  dropped 
her  parasol  and  picked  it  up  pretty  much  as  though  it 
were  a  shillelah  and  she  meant  to  use  it  as  such,  and 
then  the  group  began  to  break  up.  Ray,  glancing  over 
his  shoulder  to  inquire  the  cause  of  the  sudden  cessation 
of  talk,  caught  sight  of  the  snowy  plume  dancing  on 
up  the  walk,  of  Blake  standing  in  petrified  and  indig 
nant  silence,  and  then  of  Mrs.  Stannard's  face, — her 
eyes  filling  with  tears.  He  recalled  instantly  her  recent 
questions  and  half-uttered  warnings,  and  something 
told  him  the  blow  had  come.  He  gave  one  quick  look 
at  Miss  Sanford  ;  their  eyes  met,  and  hers,  too,  were 
full  of  trouble  and  something  she  could  not  express. 

"  Excuse  me,  but  I  want  to  inquire  what  this  means," 
24 


278  MARION'S  FAITH. 

he  said,  and,  bowing  quietly,  he  turned  to  the  gate  whore 
Blake  still  stood  looking  after  Warner,  who  had  halted 
farther  up  the  row. 

"  It's  you,  Billy  boy ;  and  damn  me  if  I  don't  be 
lieve  the  world  is  mad  !" 

Ray  stalked  up  the  line  fast  as  his  halting  gait  would 
admit.  Wonderment,  indignation,  bitterness,  were  in 
his  heart,  but  he  choked  it  all  down,  and  his  eyes  were 
fixed  full  upon  the  staff-officer,  who,  seeing  him  alone, 
came  rapidly  back  to  meet  him.  Something  of  the  old 
reckless,  dauntless  manner  reasserted  itself  as  they 
reached  speaking  distance.  The  adjutant  was  toying 
nervously  with  his  sword-knot.  Despite  all  Gleason's 
insinuations,  despite  official  papers  that  had  been  going 
to  and  fro,  he  felt  it  impossible  to  believe  the  allegations 
against  Mr.  Ray,  and  his  unbelief  was  never  so  pro 
nounced  as  at  this  moment  when  they  came  together. 
He  had  never  seen  it  done  before,  but  instinctively — by 
an  impulse  he  could  not  restrain — he  raised  his  hand  in 
•salute  as  he  spoke  the  brief  official  words, — 

"  Mr.  Ray,  you  are  hereby  placed  in  close  arrest,  by 
order  of  Colonel  Whaling." 

And  Ray,  with  courteous  return  of  the  salute,  replied 
with  almost  smiling  grace, — 

"  Very  well,  Mr.  Warner.  I  presume  you  will  give 
me  prompt  information  as  to  the  charges  ;"  and,  facing 
about,  went  slowly  and  deliberately  to  his  quarters. 

Mrs.  Stannard  stood  at  -the  door- way  until  she  saw 
him  turn,  then,  taking  Miss  Sanford's  hand,  drew  her 
within  the  hall,  saying  simply,  "  Come." 

"  What  can  it  mean,  Mrs.  Stannard  ?  Surely  he 
will  stop  and  tell  us." 


IN   CLOSE   ARREST.  279 

"He  cannot.  Miss  Marion.  He  must  go  direct  to 
his  quarters.  I  will  send  Mr.  Blake  at  once  to  him. 
They  are  going  now  together.  I  shall  go  and  find  out 
all  I  can.  Do  not  tell  Mrs.  Truscott." 

And  without  a  word  Marion  Sanford  went  slowly  up 
the  stairs  and  to  her  room.  Mrs.  Stannard  listened 
until  she  heard  her  close  the  door,  then  hastened  down 
the  row  in  pursuit  of  Mr.  Blake.  Ray  waved  his  hand 
to  her  as  he  stepped  inside  the  threshold,  and  Blake, 
fuming  with  fury,  came  back  to  meet  her. 

"  Was  there  ever  such  an  outrage  ?  It  is  something 
of  Gleason's  doing,  of  course,  but  Ray  says  he  can  stand 
it  if  G.  can,  and  is  disposed  to  laugh  it  off;  but  there's 
something  else,  I'm  afraid  ;  have  you  heard  anything  ?" 

"  Nothing  but  vague  rumors,  Mr.  Blake,  but  enough 
to  worry  me.  There  is  some  deep-laid  plot  or  I'm 
fearfully  mistaken.  Gleason  would  never  dare  do  it 
alone.  Can't  you  telegraph  to  the  regiment  and  have 
things  stopped  ?" 

"  They  are  far  above  Fetter  man,  and  can  only  be 
reached  by  courier.  Webb  and  Gleason  went  out  with 
small  escort  last  night,  so  the  despatches  say.  By 
Jove !  I'll  try  it.  Surely  the  colonel  and  Stannard 
and  Wayne  ought  to  be  told.  Wayne  is  still  at  Lara 
mie,  but  he  would  come.  Something  must  be  done  to 
block  these  lies  whatever  they  are." 

"  Oh,  if  Luce  were  only  where  we  could  make  him 
hear  !  Mr.  Blake,  can't  you  find  out  from  Mr.  Warner 
what  the  trouble  is, — what  the  charges  are  ?' 

"  Of  course  I  can.  It  is  some  mere  local  mischief 
that  fellow  Gleason  has  kicked  up.  I'll  go  just  as  soon 
as  I've  seen  Billy." 


280  MARION'S  FAITH. 

And  go  he  did  :  and  would  have  gone  straight  into 
the  old  colonel's  office  even  had  that  veteran  not  called 
him  in.  And  when  next  Mr.  Blake  appeared  upon  the 
walk,  the  light  had  gone  out  of  his  face.  He  went 
slowly,  reluctantly,  wretchedly,  back  down  the  row. 
He  could  not  bear  to  carry  the  news  to  Ray,  yet  he 
had  promised,  and  in  his  hand  was  a  copy  of  the 
charges  and  specifications  preferred  against  his  friend. 
So  far  from  being  a  mere  local  matter  the  arrest  was 
ordered  from  division  headquarters,  the  court  was  al 
ready  selected,  and  the  time  fixed  for  its  meeting.  Long 
before  sunset  the  whole  garrison  knew — and  with  what 
additions  and  exaggerations  who  can  say  ? — that  Lieu 
tenant  Ray  was  to  be  tried  by  court-martial  for  offences 
that  reflected  on  the  honor  of  the  whole  regiment,  and 
that  accepting  bribes  and  large  sums  of  money  from 
prominent  contractors  while  on  the  horse  board,  gam 
bling  with  them  and  misappropriating  public  funds, 
were  the  main  allegations.  The  charges  were  signed 
by  a  prominent  staff-officer,  and  Gleason's  name  only 
appeared  incidentally  as  a  witness;  so  did  that  of 
Rallston,  Ray's  brother-in-law ;  but  there  were  several 
others.  Blake  laid  the  bulky  paper  before  his  friend 
with  this  word, — 

"  Before  you  say  aye  or  nay  to  any  one  of  the  charges 
in  this  batch  of  infamy,  I  want  to  say  to  you,  Ray, 
that  I'll  stake  my  commission  on  their  utter  falsity." 

And  he  had  said  practically  the  same  thing  to  the 
post  commander. 

That  afternoon  Mr.  Blake,  after  a  long  talk  with 
Ray,  knocked  at  Mrs.  Stannard's  door  and  asked  to  see 
her  a  moment.  Sho  ^me  to  him  in  dire  anxiety. 


IN  CLOSE  ARREST.  281 

Long  before  this  had  Mrs.  Whaling  been  in  to  lament 
over  the  downfall  of  this  unhappy  young  man,  and  to 
expatiate  on  the  gravity  of  the  charges.  On  Mrs.  Stan- 
nard's  making  prompt  and  spirited  expression  of  her 
utter  disbelief  in  them,  the  good  lady  had  lifted  her 
eyes  in  pathetic  appeal  to  heaven  that  so  mercifully 
enables  us  to  bear  the  tribulations  that  befall  our 
friends,  and  groaned,  a  veritable  Stiggins  in  skirts. 
Ah,  no ;  she  hoped,  she  prayed,  of  course,  it  might 
prove  false;  but  the  general — the  general  said  the 
array  of  witnesses  was  overwhelming,  and  then  his 
temptations  !  and  his  past  career  !  She  had  been  told 
he  was  addicted  to  the  vices  of  drink  and  cards  in  their 
worst  form.  Ah,  no ;  it  was  futile  to  hope.  She  feared 
the  worst.  And  Mrs.  Stannard  was  wellnigh  ready  to 
bid  her  begone, — the  old  croaking  raven  !  as  down  in 
her  inmost  heart  she  termed  her.  She  was  full  of  faith 
and  loyalty,  but  she  was  fearfully  worried,  and  Blake's 
coming  was  a  godsend. 

"  How  is  he  ?"  she  asked. 

"  Astonished,  of  course ;  mad,  not  a  little ;  but  as 
full  of  pluck  as  ever.  What  I  want  to  see  you  about 
is  this.  He  forbids  my  telegraphing  to  have  things 
stopped.  He  wants  a  court,  wants  to  be  tried;  the 
quicker  the  better;  says  I  can  write  to  Stannard  or 
anybody,  but  not  to  think  of  stopping  proceedings. 
All  he  seems  to  care  for  is  this  :  he  fully  expected  to  be 
well  enough  to  travel  in  two  weeks,  and  then  he  wanted 
to  join  the  regiment  as  fast  as  horse  could  take  him. 
All  that  is  now  impossible.  He  has  not  said  a  word 
about  Gleason,  but  I  have  sent  a  couple  of  telegrams 
from  him  that  will  make  his  brother-in-law  smart." 

24* 


282  MARION'S  FAITH. 


"  And  1^  e  you  telegraphed  to  Fort  Fetterman  ? 
I'm  sure  they  would  have  a  chance  to  send  the  news." 

"  Yes,  of  course  I  did.  What  I  can't  get  over  is 
this  :  that  much  of  this  matter  must  have  been  re 
ported  through  old  Whaling  here  by  Gleason,  and  it 
has  all  been  done  in  the  dark.  The  old  rip  never  gave 
us  a  chance  to  refute  any  story  that  Gleason  would  tell. 
Did  you  hear  about  Ray's  message  to  him  ?" 

"  No.     When—  what  was  it  ?" 

"  Instead  of  asking  to  see  the  commanding  officer,  as 
the  average  officer  does  when  put  in  arrest  for  a  thing 
he  is  innocent  of,  Ray  never  mentioned  him.  About 
an  hour  ago  I  met  the  colonel,  and  he  asked  me  how 
Ray  was  behaving,  and  was  beginning  something  about 
not  letting  him  drink,  when  I  could  hold  in  no  longer, 
and  told  him  flatly  that  Ray  hadn't  taken  as  many 
drinks  in  a  month  as  he  had  in  a  day.  You  ought 
to  have  seen  him  ;  he  was  struck  all  aback,  and  stam 
mered  something  about  his  having  been  led  to  suppose 
Ray  was  doing  a  good  deal  of  that  sort  of  thing.  I 
replied  that  that  wasn't  the  only  thing  he  had  been 
misinformed  about  by  a  jugful,  and  he  looked  as 
though  he'd  like  to  put  me  in  arrest  too  —  the  old  slab  ; 
he  would,  too,  if  he  had  the  grit  of  his  wife  ;  but  he 
didn't.  He  sent  Warner  down  just  a  moment  ago  to 
say  that  if  Mr.  Ray  desired  to  speak  to  him  about  the 
matter  he  would  see  him  this  evening,  as  '  he  desired  to 
go  to  town  on  the  morrow.'  Ray  begged  Warner  to 
sit  down,  offered  him  a  toddy  or  a  glass  of  wine,  and, 
finally,  as  though  it  had  suddenly  occurred  to  him, 
exclaimed,  '  Oh  !  Do  I  want  to  see  the  colonel  ?  Why, 
really,  Mr.  Warner,  I  know  of  nothing  that  —  well, 


7.V  CLOSE  ARREST.  283 

you  might  say  this,  you  know  :  it  isn't  at  all  necessary 
that  I  should  see  him,  and  I  do  not  send  this  as  a  mes 
sage  ;  but,  as  the  colonel  appears  to  have  furnished  much 
of  the  information  on  these  charges  without  reference 
to  me,  I  shall  probably  answer  them  in  the  same  way, 
— without  reference  to  him.7  Gad  !  I  never  saw  Ray 
more  placidly  polite,  and  he's  always  most  full  of  fight 
at  such  times." 

But  even  with  such  "  an  old  slab"  as  Whaling  any 
thing  more  impolitic  than  the  conduct  of  these  two 
cavalry  subalterns  could  hardly  have  been  imagined. 
Warner  never  told  the  colonel  what  Ray  said  ;  but,  of 
course,  had  to  say  that  Ray  expressed  no  desire  to  see 
him.  By  the  following  morning  the  colonel  was  cha 
fing  over  it  a  great  deal,  and  over  the  indignation  ex 
pressed  around  the  post  at  Ray's  arrest.  He  concluded 
that  he  wanted  to  see  the  young  man  himself,  and  an 
opportunity  unexpectedly  occurred.  Sergeant  Wolf's 
recent  desertion  was  still  a  source  of  much  subdued  ex 
citement,  and  efforts  had  been  made  to  capture  him. 
It  had  begun  to  leak  around  the  garrison  that  he  had 
been  sent  for  the  night  of  his  departure  by  Lieutenant 
Ray,  and  did  not  return  to  the  band  barracks  until 
eleven  o'clock,  "  when  he  acted  queer."  The  post 
quartermaster  was  much  exercised  about  the  theft  of 
one  of  the  best  horses  from  the  band  stable,  as  he  had 
become  responsible  for  them  in  the  absence  of  Mr.  Bil 
lings.  Possibly  Ray  could  throw  some  light  on  the 
matter,  and,  to  that  officer's  surprise,  he  was  sent  for  at 
guard- mounting.  His  first  idea  was  that  his  remarks 
to  Warner  had  been  carried  to  the  colonel,  and  that  he 
was  to  be  overhauled  for  them.  His  head  was  perhaps 


284  MARION'S  FAITH. 

a  trifle  higher  than  usual,  therefore,  when  he  entered 
the  office.  The  first  question  sent  the,  blood  surging  to 
his  forehead,  and  he  almost  staggered  with  surprise. 

"Mr.  Kay,"  said  the  colonel,  abruptly,  ado  you 
know  anything  of  the  causes  of  Wolfs  desertion  ?" 

It  was  a  moment  before  he  could  reply.  Know? 
Of  course  he  knew ;  but  it  was  a  thing  to  be  sacredly 
guarded.  He  could  not  tell  of  that  interview  without 
betraying  her,  without  bringing  Grace  Truscott's  name 
into  the  very  snare  that  Gleason  had  laid  for  it.  The 
colonel  saw  his  hesitation,  and  wheeled  around  in  his 
chair ;  Mr.  Warner  looked  up  in  surprise. 

"  I  say,  do  you  know  anything  of  Wolf's  desertion, — 
of  its  causes,  of  where  he  has  probably  gone  ?"  repeated 
the  colonel,  sharply. 

"  I  do  not  know  where  he  has  gone,  sir ;  I  have 
formed  an  opinion  as  to  the  cause  of  his  desertion." 

"  And  what  is  it,  Mr.  Ray?" 

"  If  it  concerned  me,  I  would  answer  unhesitatingly, 
Colonel  Whaling.  As  it  is,  I  cannot." 

"  What  possible  reason  can  there  be  for  silence,  sir  ? 
I  do  not  understand." 

"  I  cannot  explain  it  now,  sir.  Let  me  simply  as 
sure  you  that  I  never  saw  him  until  within  the  last 
few  days,  that  I  had  an  interview  with  him  the  night 
of  his  desertion,  and  that  he  has  had  some  trouble  of 
a  personal  and  private  nature.  Other  than  that  I  can 
give  no  account  of  him." 

"  This  is  most  extraordinary,  Mr.  Ray.  How  came 
you  to  know  anything  of  his  private  history,  sir  ?" 

"  I  decline  to  say,  sir." 

"By  heavens,  Mr.  Ray!     Do  you  realize  that  in 


IN  CLOSE  ARREST.  285 

addition  to  the  other  charges  against  you,  you  are  lay 
ing  yourself  open  to  those  of  abetting  desertion?" 

"  Possibly,  sir.  If  so,  I  can  meet  them  before  the 
proper  tribunal." 

"  You  may  go,  sir.  Stop  !  one  moment :  I  have 
telegraphed  to  Sidney,  to  Denver,  and  to  Laramie  City 
to  be  on  the  lookout  for  him.  I  demand  to  know 
whether  you  have  an  idea  where  he  has  gone ;  that  you 
can  answer !" 

"  I  have  not,  colonel." 

"  Do  you  think  of  any  place  I  have  not  mentioned 
where  he  would  be  apt  to  go  ?" 

Ray  turned  whiter  now,  but  his  eyes  were  unflinch 
ing. 

"  I  do ;  but  it  is  only  conjecture." 

"What  place,  sir?" 

"  Fort  Fetterman." 

"Fort  Fetterman?  That's  simply  absurd!  He 
would  be  recognized  there  with  his  horse  and  surely 
arrested." 

"  Very  well,  sir ;  then  I  know  of  no  other." 

"  And  you  still  refuse  to  tell  what  your  interview 
was  about  ?" 

"I  shall  always  refuse  that,  sir."  And  therewith 
Mr.  Ray  was  remanded  to  his  quarters.  Verily  there 
was  some  reason  for  Blake's  outburst  when  he  came  in 
after  hearing  Warner's  brief  description  of  the  official 
interview  which  Mrs.  Whaling  had  given  in  lurid  ex 
aggeration  to  the  garrison. 

"  Why,  hell  is  empty,  and  all  the  devils  are  here." 


286  MARION'S  FAITH. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

A   CORNERED   RAT. 

FAR  away  to  the  northwest  this  night,  close  under 
the  shoulders  of  the  Big  Horn  Mountains,  a  regiment 
of  cavalry  has  gone  into  bivouac  after  a  day's  march 
through  blistering  sun-glare  and  alkali.  Hour  after 
hour,  with  strained,  aching  eyes,  they  have  been  watch 
ing  the  gradually-nearing  dome  of  Cloud  Peak,  still 
glistening  white  though  this  is  August.  Around 
the  blunt  elbow  of  the  mountains,  two  days'  march 
away  to  the  north,  they  expect  to  find  the  Gray  Fox 
and  all  his  men  eagerly  awaiting  their  coming.  A 
courier  from  the  front  has  brought  them  tidings  that 
the  Indians  are  in  force  all  over  the  country  west  of  the 
Cheetish  group.  Another  courier  has  galloped  after 
them  from  Fetterman,  leaving  there  last  night,  and  he 
brings  strange  news. 

During  the  long,  dusty,  burning  day  Captain  Webb 
and  Mr.  Gleason  have  joined  the  command  and  re 
ported  for  duty.  To  the  disgust  of  the  young  second 
lieutenant  commanding  Wayne's  troop  in  his  absence, 
the  colonel  directs  Mr.  Gleason,  the  senior  lieutenant 
now  for  duty,  to  assume  command  of  it  for  the  cam 
paign.  Captain  Truscott  has  no  objections.  He  pre 
fers  not  to  have  Mr.  Gleason  with  his  own  troop,  and 
Stannard  is  glad  to  get  him  out  of  his  battalion.  Very 
few  men  are  glad  to  see  Gleason,  though  nearly  all  the 


A   CORNERED  RAT.  287 

officers  go  to  him  for  letters  and  news.  They  bring  a 
small  packet  of  mail,  and  on  the  way  Gleason  has 
made  himself  very  interesting  to  Webb,  and  has  easily 
gathered  from  that  simple-minded  gentleman  that  there 
was  an  awkward  tableau  at  Truscott's  when  he  went 
there  to  say  good-by.  "  Confidentially/7  Gleason  had 
let  him  understand  that  he  had  seen  only  one  of  many 
symptoms  that  had  given  much  food  for  talk  at  Rus 
sell  ;  that  to  his,  Gleason's,  bitter  regret  he  feared  Mrs. 
Truscott  had  not  been  as  discreet  as  she  should  with  a 
fellow  like  Ray,  who  was — well — had  Webb  heard  any 
thing  of  that  horse  board  business,  etc.?  It  was  so 
easy, — it  is  so  easy, — more's  the  pity,  to  say  so  very 
much  in  saying  very  little,  when  the  good  name  of  man 
or  woman  is  at  stake.  Long  before  they  got  to  the 
regiment  Webb  was  convinced  that  he  had  seen  very 
much  more  than  he  really  did  at  Russell,  and  he  had 
heard  a  volume  of  gossip  that,  after  all,  he  could  not 
have  asserted  was  told  him  by  Gleason,  yet  had  been 
most  deftly  suggested.  Gleason  was  deep.  He  knew 
that  they  brought  with  them  the  mail  of  the  last  stage 
reaching  Fetterman  for  three  days.  Further  news 
would  not  be  apt  to  come  by  letter  for  a  week,  by 
which  time  the  regiment  would  probably  be  hotly  en 
gaged,  and  he  himself  called  back  by  telegraphic  order 
as  an  important  witness  before  the  court.  This  latter 
probability  he  mentioned  to  no  one.  He  meant  to  be 
grievously  surprised  and  disgusted  when  the  orders 
came  recalling  him,  and  until  then  his  cards  had  to  be 
carefully  played.  None  of  the  ladies  at  Russell  who 
knew  him  at  all  had  intrusted  him  with  letters.  All 
theirs  had  gone  by  mail  or  by  Captain  Webb,  but  when 


288  MARION'S  FAITH. 

the  mail  was  opened  at  Fetterman,  Gleason  promptly 
offered  to  carry  forward  anything  there  might  be  for 
the  officers  of  his  regiment,  and  on  the  way  this  was 
carefully  assorted.  He  had  met  Stannard  and  Truscott 
with  beaming  cordiality,  saying,  "  Ah  !  you  well  knew 
I  would  not  come  without  letters  from  your  better 
halves,"  and  fumbling  in  inner  pockets  as  though  they 
had  been  stored  there  ever  since  leaving  Russell. 

It  was  not  until  late  that  afternoon  that  Major  Stan 
nard  received  from  Webb  the  message  sent  by  his  good 
wife,  and  he  was  pondering  in  his  mind  what  it  could 
mean,  when  at  sunset  Truscott  strolled  over  from  his 
troop  to  see  him.  Gleason  by  this  time  was  being 
very  sociable  with  the  colonel  and  Mr.  Billings. 

"  Have  you  anything  from  Mrs.  Stannard  later  than 
the  letter  you  spoke  of  this  afternoon,  major  ?"  asked 
the  captain,  whose  face  was  somewhat  anxious. 

"  Why,  yes,  Truscott ;  Webb  brought  me  a  message 
that  he  said  Mrs.  Stannard  gave  him  at  the  last  mo 
ment,  to  the  effect  that  she  would  have  a  long  letter  for 
me  by  next  mail,  and  to  be  sure  and  get  it.  It  seems 
a  little  odd." 

"My  last  is  a  pencilled  note  from  Mrs.  Truscott, 
written  but  a  few  moments  before  the  stage  started. 
She  says  she  sends  it  out  to  Fetterman  by  the  driver, 
and  I  suppose  our  old  '  striker'  easily  got  him  to  take 
it ;  but  she  speaks  of  being  far  from  well,  nervous,  etc., 
and  that  Mrs.  Stannard  is  such  a  blessing  to  her, — so 
constantly  with  her.  I  wish  there  were  something 
more  definite.  She  writes  three  pages  for  the  purpose 
of  telling  me  not  to  be  anxious,  and  the  very  nervous 
ness  and  tremulous  style  give  me  some  cause  for  worry." 


A    CORNERED  RAT.  289 

"  Why,  in  my  letter  Mrs.  Stannard  speaks  of  Mrs. 
Truscott  as  being  so  bright  and  well,  and  of  their 
having  such  good  times  together,  and  being  so  charmed 
with  Miss  Sanford.  It  hardly  seems  there  could  have 
been  so  sudden  a  change  in  one  day." 

But  there  had  been,  as  we  know,  and  a  change  as 
sudden  was  coming  to  the  current  of  events  in  the  har 
monious  — th.  Just  after  dark  a  courier  on  jaded 
horse  came  riding  in  from  the  south.  He  brought 
telegraphic  despatches  to  the  colonel  and  one  to  Major 
Stannard.  The  latter  read  his  by  the  light  of  his 
camp-lantern,  gave  a  long  whistle  of  amaze  and  dis 
gust,  and  sung  out  for  Truscott  as  he  rolled  from 
under  his  blankets.  The  trumpets  were  just  sounding 
tattoo,  and  Stannard  and  other  officers  had  turned  in 
early,  preparatory  to  the  start  at  four  in  the  morn 
ing.  While  waiting  for  Truscott's  coming,  the  major 
could  see  that  at  the  colonel's  tent  there  was  also  ex 
citement  and  a  gathering  of  several  officers.  He 
had  not  long  to  wait.  Truscott  joined  him  in  a  few 
moments. 

"  I  called  you  here  because  it  was  where  we  could 
talk  unobserved.  What  do  you  say  to  that  ?"  And  he 
handed  him  the  despatch. 

Truscott  read  without  a  word,  and  then  stood  there 
a  moment  earnestly  thinking,  his  lips  firmly  set,  a 
dark  shadow  settling  on  hfe  forehead.  The  message 
was  as  follows : 

"  Kay  arrested.  Horse  board  charges  cooked  up  here  by  Glea- 
son.  Court  ordered  from  Chicago.  All  staff  or  infantry  officers. 
Make  Gleason  name  authorities  before  regiment. 

"BLAKE." 


290  MARION'S  FAITH. 

Stannard  had  thrust  his  head  forward  and  his  hands 
into  his  breeches-pockets. 

"  Now,  isn't  that  simply  damnable  ?"  he  asked. 

"  You  do  not  believe  Ray  guilty,  do  you  ?"  was 
Truscott's  response. 

"  No,  I  don't,"  though  there  was  hesitating  accent 
on  the  don't.  Stannard  hated  to  be  thought  unprepared 
for  any  trait  in  a  fellow-man — good  or  bad.  "  What 
can  the  charges  be  ?  Ray  told  me  he  had  neither  gam 
bled  nor  drank." 

"  Something  has  been  received  at  the  colonel's. 
Billings  was  there  opening  and  reading  despatches 
when  you  called  me."  And  Truscott  nodded  thither. 

"Come  on.  I'm  going  to  see  this  thing  through 
now,"  said  Stannard,  and  together  they  walked  to 
headquarters. 

The  colonel,  wrapped  in  his  overcoat,  was  sitting  up 
at  the  head  of  his  camp-bed  noting  with  a  pencil  a  few 
memoranda,  while  Billings  was  reading  aloud  in  a  low 
voice  some  long  despatches.  Outside  the  tent  were 
grouped  half  a  dozen  officers,  waiting  for  such  news  as 
the  colonel  might  give.  Beyond  them  were  the  scat 
tered  and  smouldering  fires,  the  rude  shelter-tents  of 
the  men,  the  white  tops  of  the  army  wagons ;  beyond 
these  the  dark  outlines  of  the  massive  hills ;  above  them 
all  the  brilliant,  placid  stars ;  around  them  the  hush  of 
nature,  broken  only  by  the  drowsing  swish  and  plash 
of  rapid,  running  waters,  the  stir  of  the  night  wind  in 
the  scattered  trees,  the  stamp  and  snort  of  some  startled 
troop-horse,  the  distant  challenge  of  the  night  sentries. 
Something  important  had  come,  and  the  group  looked 
eagerly  at  Stanuard  and  Truscott  as  they  approached. 


A    CORNERED  RAT.  291 

"  Have  you  heard  anything  ?"  was  the  question. 

"  IVe  got  a  despatch/7  said  Stannard,  gruffly  ;  "  but 
T  want  to  see  the  colonel  before  I  speak  of  it."  Then 
the  colonel's  voice  was  heard, — 

"  That  you,  Stannard  ?     Come  in  here." 

And  the  major  passed  into  the  tent.  Presently  he 
came  out,  took  Truscott  by  the  arm  and  led  him  away. 

"  No  use  talking  to  him  to-night.  He  has  nothing 
but  the  official  despatches,  and  they  look  ugly  for  Kay. 
There  are  other  things  that  occupy  him  now,  but  what 
we  want  is  to  see  Gleason  right  off.  He  is  ordered  to 
return  at  once,  and  goes  back  in  the  morning.  Come." 

Over  in  the  second  battalion  a  sentry  pointed  out 
Gleason's  tent.  Stannard  scratched  and  rattled  at  the 
flap.  No  answer.  "  Gleason  !"  he  called.  No  reply. 
"He's  shamming  sleep,  by  gad  !"  growled  the  major, 
between  his  teeth.  "It's  only  fifteen  minutes  since 
Billings  told  him  he  was  to  start  back  at  daybreak. 
He  wants  to  avoid  us,  and  has  his  flaps  all  tied  inside. 
I'll  have  him  out  or  bring  his  damned  tent  down  about 
his  ears."  And  it  was  plain  that  Stannard  was  getting 
excited.  An  officer  came  through  the  gloom.  It  was 
Captain  Webb. 

"Isn't  this  Gleason's  tent?"  called  the  majoi. 

"  Certainly.  I  left  him  there  not  half  an  hour  ago," 
replied  the  captain.  "  Wake  him  up.  He's  got  to  go 
back  in  the  morning." 

"  Yes,  sir.  And  that's  just  what  I  want  to  see  him 
about.  Hullo  !  you  there  !  Gleason  /" 

There  came  from  within  a  snort,  as  of  one  suddenly 
awakened,  a  sleepy  yawn,  an  imbecile  "  Oh — ah — er — 
who  is  it?" 


292  MARION'S  FAITH. 

"  It's  me, — Stamiard ;  and  I  want  you,"  was  the 
reply,  all  the  more  forcible  for  being  ungrammatic. 

"  Oh  !  One  minute,  major,  and  I'll  be  with  you," 
called  the  inmate,  as  though  overcome  with  sudden  ac 
cess  of  joy,  and  presently  he  appeared,  half  dressed. 

"See  here,  Gleason,  Captain  Truscott  and  I  have 
come  to  inquire  what  you  know  of  the  charges  against 
Mr.  Ray.  You  are  to  go  back  at  once,  I'm  told,  as 
witness  against  him.  There  won't  be  a  soul  there  of 
his  regiment  or  his  friends,  for  we  know  well  you're 
not  one,  to  speak  for  him.  By  thunder !  what  have 
you  against  him  ?" 

"  I  do  not  think  this  a  matter  on  which  I  should 
speak  at  all,  Major  Stannard,  except  to  proper  authority. 
The  court  will  hear  the  evidence  in  due  season." 

"  Well,  I  mean  to  hear  something  now,  Mr.  Gleason, 
or,  by  the  eternal !  I'll  wake  up  the  whole  command  to 
put  the  question.  What  you  make  one  believe  is,  that 
you  are  seeking  to  ruin  Ray  by  getting  him  at  a  disad 
vantage  with  all  his  friends  away.  Captain  Truscott, 
what  do  you  say  ?" 

And  then  Truscott  spoke.  As  usual,  he  was  master 
of  himself  and  showed  no  vestige  of  temper. 

"  The  matter  is  very  simple,  Mr.  Gleason.  You  are 
believed  to  be  the  accuser  of  Mr.  Ray  at  a  moment 
when  it  is  certain  the  regiment  is  going  to  be  so  far 
away  that  its  officers  cannot  be  present  at  the  court,— 
may  not  even  be  able  to  communicate  with  it.  If  you 
decline  to  indicate  what  you  know  to  Major  Stannard 
and  me,  who  are  his  friends,  the  immediate  protest  of 
the  regiment  against  your  conduct  must  go  to  head 
quarters  with  the  request  that  the  court  be  held  until 


A    CORNERED  RAT,  293 

we  can  appear  before  it.  More  than  that,  in  two  days 
we  will  reach  the  general  commanding  the  department. 
Do  you  fancy  he  will  permit  Mr.  Ray,  of  all  others,  to 
be  brought  to  trial  without  a  friend  to  appear  for  him  ?" 

Gleason  saw  he  was  cornered.  What  he  hoped, 
what  he  expected,  was  to  make  his  escape  and  get  back 
before  any  one  learned  of  the  charges.  That  hope  was 
frustrated.  In  his  wrath  and  perplexity  he  resorted  to 
the  invariable  device  of  the  cowardly  and  the  low.  He 
must  divert  their  sympathy  for  Ray  into  distrust  of 
him,  and  before  he  had  fully  considered  his  words  they 
were  spoken, — crafty,  insidious,  and  calumniatory. 

"  Captain  Truscott,  you  have  spoken  without  threat 
ening  me,  and  I'll  answer  you.  All  this  time  I've  been 
striving  not  to  see,  not  to  know  Mr.  Ray's  offences ; 
but  I  was  on  the  horse  board.  You  were  not.  Ask 
Captain  Buxton  to-morrow  who  and  what  Ray's  asso 
ciates  were ;  but  let  me  say  to  you  right  here  that  I  can 
no  longer  submit  to  seeing  you  deceived.  You  call 
Ray  your  friend.  No  man  can  be  a  worse  friend  than 
he  who  sets  a  whole  garrison  talking  about  an  absent 
comrade's  wife  and  the  notes  she  writes  him,  and  who 
is  discovered  alone  with  her, — she  in  tears,  he  burning 
a  letter.  Webb  witnessed  it.  Ask  him." 

The  last  words  were  spoken  with  utmost  haste,  with 
upraised  hand,  with  trembling  lips,  for  both  Truscott 
and  Stannard  almost  savagely  sprang  towards  him  as 
though  to  cram  the  words  down  his  throat.  For  an 
instant  Truscott  stood  glaring  at  him,  not  daring  to 
speak  until  he  could  resume  his  self-command ;  but  in 
that  instant  poor,  perturbed  Webb  broke  into  speech. 

"Oh,  come  now,  Gleason,  that's  all  an  outrageous 

25* 


294  MARION'S  FAITH. 

way  of  putting  it,  you  know.  Of  course  I  saw  there 
was  some  little  trouble.  Mrs.  Truscott  had  written  to 
Ray  because  she  was  all  upset  about  something ;  she 
was  crying,  you  know,  and  Ray  might  have  just  hap 
pened  in " 

"  Never  mind,  Webb.  Don't  speak  a  word;  of 
course  it  is  all  easily  explained.  No  man  on  earth  is 
more  welcome  at  my  home  than  Ray,  and  my  wife  is 
one  of  his  warmest  friends.  What  I  have  to  say  is  to 
you/7  said  Truscott,  turning  fully  upon  his  subaltern. 
"  If  I  needed  one  further  proof  to  assure  me  that  you 
were  the  lowest  and  most  intriguing  scoundrel  that 
walks  the  earth,  you  have  given  it  this  night.  Gen 
tlemen,  you  are  witness  to  my  words."  And  with  that 
he  walked  away. 

"  And  J  say,  Mr.  Gleason,  that  if  ever  I  lose  a 
chance  of  showing  you  up  in  your  true  colors  before 
this  regiment,  may  the  Lord  forgive  me !  We're 
booked  for  the  campaign  now ;  but  if  you  don't  appear 
before  that  court  with  credentials  that  would  damn  even 
an  Indian  agent  it  won't  be  the  fault  of  the  — th  Cav 
alry  :  and  I  mean  to  start  about  it  to-night." 

And  he  did.  Old  Stannard  had  a  stormy  interview 
with  the  colonel  forthwith,  and  stirred  up  Bucketts, 
the  quartermaster,  and  Raymond  and  Turner  and  Mer 
rill  among  the  captains,  and  even  thought  of  rousing 
Canker,  but  concluded  not  to ;  and  they  raked  out  their 
pencils,  and  when  the  escort  started  back  next  morning 
with  Mr.  Gleason,  the  sergeant  was  intrusted  with  a 
batch  of  letters  to  various  staff-officers  setting  forth  in 
unequivocal  terms  Gleason's  reputation  as  opposed  to 
Ray's  brilliant  and  gallant,  if  somewhat  reckless,  record. 


A    CORNERED   RAT.  295 

Even  the  colonel,  inspired  by  Stannard's  fiery  eloquence, 
sent  a  few  lines  to  the  general  commanding  the  divis 
ion,  expressing  the  desire  in  the  regiment  that  there 
should  be  a  suspension  of  proceedings  against  Ray 
until  they  could  get  in  from  the  campaign.  Even  Bil 
lings  turned  to  at  Stannard's  urging,  and  wrote  person 
ally  to  Ray  and  to  the  officer  who  was  named  as  judge- 
advocate  of  the  court,  and  everybody  felt  glad  to  be 
rid  of  Gleason  as  he  rode  homeward  in  gloomy  silence. 
Everybody  felt  that  he  would  be  powerless  for  harm, 
little  dreaming  how  ineffectual  those  letters  would  be  as 
far  as  the  present  case  against  Ray  was  concerned ;  lit 
tle  dreaming  how  his  going  was  but  the  means  of  coil 
ing  still  more  closely  the  folds  of  suspicion  and  dishonor 
around  the  gallant  comrade  whom  all  so  gloried  in  for 
his  summer's  work  ;  little  dreaming  of  the  days  of 
doubt  and  darkness  and  tragedy  that  were  to  envelop 
those  they  left  behind  at  Russell ;  little  dreaming  that 
from  them  and  from  friends  at  home  there  was  coming 
utter  isolation, — that  before  them  lay  days  and  weeks 
of  toil  and  danger  and  privation,  of  stirring  fight,  of 
drooping  spirits,  of  hunger,  weakness,  ay,  starvation, 
wounds,  and  lonely  death ;  little  dreaming  that  when 
next  they  reached  a  point  where  news  from  home  could 
come  to  them  one-half  their  gallant  horses  would  be 
gone,  broken  down,  starved,  or  shot  to  death  ;  many  of 
their  own  number  would  have  fallen  by  the  way,  and 
that  of  the  bold,  warlike  array  that  rode  buoyantly  in 
among  the  welcoming  comrades  in  the  camp  of  the 
Gray  Fox,  only  a  gaunt,  haggard,  tattered,  unkempt 
shadow  would  remain,  when,  eight  long  weeks  there 
after,  there  came  to  them  the  next  sad  news  of  Ray. 


296  MARION'S  FAITH. 


CHAPTER  XXL 

RAY'S  TROUBLES. 


"  HERE  we  are,  Billy  !  Whoop  !  What  did  I  tell 
you  ?  Official  communications  disrupt  bad  grammar. 
The  chief  sends  back  your  letter.  Wants  it  changed 
again,  I  suppose.  It's  the  old,  old  story, — 

'  You  can  and  you  can't, 
You  will  and  you  won't ; 
You'll  be  damned  if  you  do, 
You'll  be  damned  if  you  don't.'  " 

Ray  took  the  paper  with  a  hand  that  was  hot  and 
flushed.  For  a  week  he  had  been  in  close  confine 
ment,  and  that  and  a  complication  of  annoyances  and 
worries  had  combined  to  make  him  fretful ;  then  some 
grave  anxieties  were  added  to  his  troubles ;  and  then, 
his  quick,  impetuous  nature  had  done  the  rest.  He 
had  no  cool-headed  adviser  in  Blake,  who  had  taken  up 
the  fight  with  him,  and  now  he  was  involved  in  an 
official  tussle  with  the  post  authorities  that  added 
greatly  to  his  fevered  condition.  He  was  sore  in  body, 
for  the  wound  in  his  thigh  was  now  beginning  to  trouble 
him  again.  He  was  sore  at  heart,  for,  except  the  im 
politic  Blake,  he  did  not  seem  to  have  a  friend  in  the 
world.  There  had  come  one  or  two  kind  little  notes 
from  the  ladies  "  up  the  row,"  as  they  called  the  Stan- 


RATS   TROUBLES.  297 

nard-Truscott  household  when  they  did  not  care  to  be 
more  explicit ;  but  these  had  ceased,  and  what  was 
worse,  in  his  days  of  worry  and  trouble  and  heartsick- 
ness,  Ray  had  sought  comfort  in  an  old  solace,  that  had 
done  no  great  harm  when  he  was  living  his  vigorous 
out-of-door  life,  but  was  playing  the  mischief  with  his 
judgment  and  general  condition  now  that  he  was 
penned  up  in  the  narrow  limits  of  his  quarters.  Very, 
very  anxious  had  Mrs.  Stannard's  face  become ;  very 
wistful  and  anxious,  too,  was  Miss  Sanford's ;  and  very 
sympathetic  was  Mrs.  Truscott's.  The  first  few  days 
of  his  arrest  they  used  to  stroll  down  the  line,  and  make 
it  a  point  to  go  there  and  chat  with  him  on  his  piazza ; 
and  this  exasperated  old  Whaling,  who  was  indignant 
that  the  cavalry  ladies  should  make  a  martyr  of  their 
regimental  culprit.  The  third  day  of  his  arrest,  they 
were  all  seated  there  on  the  piazza,  while  Ray  sat  at  his 
open  window,  and  Hogan,  his  orderly,  had  led  Dandy 
around  to  the  front,  and  the  pretty  sorrel — the  light 
of  his  master's  eyes  until  eclipsed  by  one  before  which 
even  Dandy's  paled  its  ineffectual  fire — was  cropping  the 
juicy  herbage  in  the  little  grass  plat  in  front  of  the 
piazza  and  being  fed  with  loaf-sugar  by  delicate  hands. 
Blake  was  sprawled  over  the  railing,  limp  and  long- 
legged,  chatting  with  Mrs.  Truscott.  Miss  Sanford 
was  seated  nearer  the  window,  where  Ray's  eager  eyes 
seemed  to  chain  her,  and  Mrs.  Stannard  was  doing  most 
of  the  talk,  for  they  seemed  strangely  silent.  It  was  a 
pleasant  picture  of  loyalty  and  esprit  de  corps,  thought 
Mr.  Warner,  as  he  came  down  from  the  office ;  but  to 
old  Whaling,  coming  home  crabbed  from  the  store, 
where  his  post  quartermaster  had  beaten  him  several 


298  MARION'S  FAITH. 

games  of  pool,  it  was  a  galling  sight.  The  ladies  bowed 
in  quiet,  modified  courtesy, — there  was  no  cordiality 
whatever  in  it.  Blake  straightened  up  and  saluted  his 
superior  in  a  purely  perfunctory  style  that  had  nothing 
of  deference  and  little  of  respect  in  it,  and  the  colonel 
and  his  quartermaster  both  raised  their  caps  in  evi 
dent  embarrassment.  They  looked  back  at  Dandy 
after  they  had  passed  on  a  few  rods,  and  Blake  mut 
tered, — 

"  Now,  Billy  boy,  they'll  be  sending  you  a  note  to 
keep  your  horse  out  of  your  front  yard  hereafter." 
But  Blake  had  undershot  the  mark. 

That  evening  there  came  bad  news.  Rallston  had 
been  named  as  one  of  the  principal  witnesses,  and  Ray 
had  telegraphed  and  written  to  his  sister  at  Omaha 
asking  where  he  was.  His  letter  explained  the  situa 
tion  he  was  in,  and,  though  he  would  say  nothing  to 
accuse  her  husband,  he  told  her  that  one  of  the  alle 
gations  was  that  he  had  accepted  five  hundred  dollars 
from  him  as  a  bribe  to  induce  him  to  "  pass"  certain 
horses.  The  facts  were  these  :  Rallston  had  been  among 
the  first  to  welcome  him  to  Kansas  City,  had  taken  him 
to  his  own  rooms,  had  been  most  cordial  and  kind,  had 
brought  all  manner  of  loving  inquiries  from  sister  Nell, 
and  an  invitation  from  her  to  visit  them  at  Omaha  be 
fore  his  return.  Ray  did  not  and  would  not  drink 
anything  beyond  a  little  wine  at  dinner,  nor  could  he 
be  induced  to  touch  a  card  at  play,  though  every  even 
ing  some  of  Rallston's  friends  were  there  playing  poker, 
and  Ray  was  a  laughing  and  interested  spectator.  In 
the  course  of  two  or  three  days  Rallston  had  grown 
very  confidential,  and  had  finally,  most  gracefully,  told 


RAY'S   TROUBLES.  299 

Ray  that  he  had  disliked  to  mention  it  until  he  felt  he 
knew  him  well,  but  that  Nelly  had  told  him  her  brother 
had  some  outstanding  debts ;  he  owed  money  to  several 
different  parties  and  it  worried  him  ;  they  were  dunning 
him  all  at  the  same  time,  and  he  could  only  meet  their 
claims  successively.  "  Now,"  said  Rallston,  "  why  not 
let  me  be  your  banker  ?  Let  me  hand  you  the  amount 
you  owe  these  fellows.  Pay  'em  off  at  once,  and  then 
you're  a  free  man.  You  can  repay  me  when  you 
choose,  and  if  you  never  do,  why,  it's  all  right — it's 
Nell's  present  to  you.  I've  got  several  thousand  dol 
lars  in  the  bank  this  moment  that  I've  no  use  for  ;"  and 
Ray  had  thanked  him  from  the  bottom  of  his  heart  and 
accepted.  Later  there  began  to  grow  a  breach.  Rall 
ston  had  quickly  seen  how  keen  an  eye  Ray  had  for 
defects  in  horseflesh,  and  had  striven  to  get  him  to  ac 
cept  some  horses  he  knew  to  be  "  off  color."  Ray  had 
firmly  refused.  Then,  later,  he  asked  Ray  to  sign  an 
I.  O.  U.  for  the  five  hundred  dollars,  which  was  done, 
and  the  next  thing  he  noticed  Rallston  was  consorting 
with  Gleason  ;  and  when  the  board  adjourned  there  was 
no  Rallston  to  say  good-by.  Ray  went  to  Omaha  and 
saw  his  sister,  who  was  rejoiced  to  hear  how  generously 
her  husband  had  behaved,  but  Ray  was  a  trifle  worried 
then  at  her  repeated  questions  about  him,  though  Nell 
was  brave  and  buoyant  as  ever.  She  was  living  at  the 
hotel  until  his  return,  and  he  did  not  return  up  to  the 
time  Ray  left  for  the  regiment.  Ray  had  written  to 
him  and  received  no  reply.  Now  he  had  written  to  her 
asking  where  he  was,  and  then  she  broke  down  and  told 
him.  She  had  not  seen  her  husband  for  a  month,  and 
had  only  an  occasional  line.  She  needed  money  at  that 


300  MARION1  S  FAITH. 

moment  and  knew  not  where  to  find  him.  She  thanked 
God  they  had  no  children. 

This  was  one  letter  to  cause  Ray  bitter  anxiety. 
Another  came  that  he  read  with  infinite  surprise, 
turned  over  the  enclosure  in  his  hand,  rose  and  looked 
through  his  bureau-drawer,  and  then,  with  a  long 
whistle  of  consternation  and  perplexity,  shoved  the 
note  and  enclosure  into  his  pocket. 

All  that  night  he  was  restless  and  feverish.  The 
next  morning  brought  a  new  trouble.  Once  let  a  fellow 
get  in  arrest  and  all  the  buzzing  contents  of  Pandora's 
box  will  be  turned  loose  upon  his  unlucky  head.  He 
had  risen  late,  could  eat  no  breakfast,  and  his  wound 
was  troubling  him.  There  came  a  knock  at  the  door, 
and  the  orderly  with  the  commanding  officer's  compli 
ments, — "  Was  that  horse  of  the  lieutenant's  private  or 
public  property?" 

"  Why,  public,  of  course,"  said  Ray ;  "  but  say  to 
the  colonel  that  each  officer  of  the  — th  Cavalry  has 
been  allowed  to  use  one  horse  for  campaign  purposes  to 
be  considered  as  his  own/' 

Blake  had  gone  off  somewhere.  It  was  too  early  for 
the  ladies.  Ray  fretted  and  worried,  wondering  what 
this  new  move  could  portend,  when  he  heard  a  row  in 
the  back-yard ;  and  in  came  Hogan,  full  of  fight  and 
wrath. 

"  There's  a  doughboy  sergeant  out  there,  sir,  as  says 
he's  ordered  to  take  Dandy  to  the  quartermaster's 
stables,  an'  I  told  him  to  go  to  blazes,  an'  whin  he 
shtepped  by  me  an'  into  the  paddock  an'  began  un- 
tyin'  him,  I  told  him  he  had  a  right  to  shpake  to  you 
furrst,  an'  he  said  he'd  slap  me  into  the  gyard-honse  if 


RAFS   TROUBLES.  301 

I  gave  him  any  lip,  and  I  turned  the  kay  on  him,  sir, 
an'  here  it  is.  I  locked  'em  both  in,  sir.  Share  they 
couldn't  take  the  lootenant's  horse  without  his  kno\\  in' 
it,  sir." 

Ray  took  the  key  and  hobbled  out  to  his  back  door, 
Dimply  telling  Hogan  to  come  with  him.  He  was 
thunderstruck  at  the  idea  of  their  taking  Dandy  from 
him.  He  never  thought  of  that  as  a  possibility — 
Dandy,  who  seemed  after  that  wild  night-ride  to  be 
part  of  himself. 

"Go  and  open  the  door,  and  tell  the  sergeant  to 
come  here,"  said  Ray. 

But  the  instant  the  sergeant  was  released,  he  rushed 
out  with  fury  in  his  eye,  fell  upon  Hogan,  seized  him 
by  the  collar,  and,  with  rage  in  every  word  and  exple 
tive,  ordered  him  to  go  with  him  to  the  guard-house, 
swearing  he'd  teach  him  to  resist  an  officer  in  the  dis 
charge  of  his  duty.  Hogan  clinched  his  fist  and  looked 
first  as  though  he  would  knock  the  sergeant  into  the 
next  yard,  which  he  was  physically  able  to  do,  but  dis 
cipline  prevailed ;  he  lifted  neither  hand  nor  voice,  but 
simply  looked  appealingly  at  his  own  officer  as  the 
sergeant  marched  him  past.  Ray  called  to  the  irate 
infantryman  to  hold  on  a  moment,  he  would  explain  ; 
but  Ray  was  in  arrest  and  could  give  no  orders.  The 
sergeant  knew  that  for  the  time  being  he  was  virtually 
the  superior.  He  simply  did  not  choose  to  hear  the 
lieutenant,  but  went  on  with  his  prisoner  across '  the 
parade,  lodged  him  in  the  guard-house,  then  went  to 
the  quartermaster's  and  reported  that  he  had  been  vio 
lently  resisted  by  private  Hogan,  locked  up  by  him  in 

the  paddock  with  the  horse,  and  that  as  soon  as  he 

26 


302  MARION'S  FAITH. 

could  get  out  he  had  "  arrested  private  Hogan  and 
confined  him  by  your  order,  sir,"  the  customary  for 
mula  in  such  cases  made  and  provided. 

Meantime,  Dandy,  finding  himself  untied  and  the 
stable-door  open,  had  ventured  forth  from  the  paddock 
while  his  master  had  hurried  through  the  house  to 
again  fruitlessly  call  to  the  sergeant  from  the  front 
door,  and  as  the  sorrel  sniffed  the  mountain  breeze  and 
felt  the  glow  of  the  sunshine  on  his  glistening  coat,  all 
his  love  for  a  wild  gallop  had  possessed  him  ;  he  trotted 
out  on  the  triangle  in  rear  of  the  houses,  looked  tri 
umphantly  about  him  a  second  or  two  with  his  head 
high  in  air,  his  nostrils  quivering,  and  his  eyes  dilating, 
then  with  a  joyous  snort  and  two  or  three  exuberant 
plunges,  with   streaming  mane  and  tail  he  tore  away 
northward,  and  went  careering  over  the  prairie.     Miss 
Sanford,  seated  near  her  window  in   an  arm-chair — 
and  a  revery,  heard  the  thunder  of  hoofs,  and  ran  to 
see  what  it  meant.     She  stood  some  minutes  watching 
Dandy  racing  riderless   over  the  springy  turf  before 
she  knew  that  Grace,  too,  was  by  her  side  gazing  from 
the  same  window.     If  Billy  Ray  could  have  seen  those 
two  faces  when  Marion  turned  to  her  friend — the  quick, 
hot  flush  on  one,  the  speaking  eyes  of  both — he  would 
never  have  done  what  he  did  do, — turn  back  to  his 
room  with  a  bitter  imprecation  on  his  lips,  with  anger 
and  desolation  in   his  heart,  and,  raising  his  hands  in 
almost  tragic  gesture  of  impotent  wrath  as  he  glared 
around  at  the  walls  of  his  undeserved  prison,  he  heartily 
damned  the  fates  that  had  consigned  him  to'  the  unsym- 
pathizing  limits  of  an  infantry  garrison;  he  heartily  in 
cluded  the  colonel  and  quartermaster  in  his  sweeping 


RATS   TROUBLES.  303 

anathema ;  and  then — oh,  Ray  !  Ray  !  it  was  so  weak, 
so  pitifully  weak  ! — he  dragged  forth  the  old  demijohn, 
filled  and  drank  a  bumper  of  rye,  hurled  the  goblet 
into  flinders  against  the  door,  and  threw  himself  upon 
his  bed  in  an  ecstasy  of  pent-up  wrath  and  misery, 
just  as  Blake  came  tearing  in  to  tell  of  Dandy's  esca 
pade.  Yes,  it  was  wofully  weak,  but  as  wofully 
human. 

That  the  breach  between  the  post  authorities  and  the 
cavalry  officers  was  widened  by  the  day's  occurrences 
goes  without  saying.  Blake  went  and  asked  for  Hogan's 
release  on  the  ground  that  as  a  cavalryman  he  had  done 
perfectly  right  in  refusing  to  let  the  horse  go  until  he 
had  seen  his  own  officer,  but  the  colonel  properly  re 
plied  that  that  by  no  means  justified  or  explained  his 
locking  up  the  sergeant,  and  in  plain  language  said  that 
Hogan  should  be  tried  forthwith.  Blake  then  urged 
that  Dandy,  being  a  regimental  horse,  should  be  re 
turned  to  Mr.  Ray,  as  the  colonel  well  knew  the  cir 
cumstances  that  had  endeared  them  to  each  other ;  but 
the  colonel  replied  that  an  officer  in  arrest  had  no  use 
for  a  horse,  and  that  Mr.  Ray  had  no  right  to  a  public 
animal  anyway.  Again  had  the  colonel  law  and  right 
on  his  side.  Then  Blake  declared  that  the  whole  regi 
ment  would  resent  such  an  action,  and  the  colonel  was 
punishing  Ray  before  he  was  even  tried ;  and  the  colo 
nel,  who  was  meek  as  Moses  in  the  presence  of  his 
wife,  and  who  preferred  peace  to  war  when  there  was 
any  chance  of  becoming  personally  involved,  but  knew 
his  strategical  strength  in  this  contest  and  was  prepared 
to  use  it,  most  properly,  pointedly,  and  justifiably  told 
Mr.  Blake  that  unless  he,  too,  desired  to  figure  as  the 


304  MARION'S  FAITH. 

accused  before  a  court-martial  for  insubordinate  con 
duct,  he  would  mend  his  ways  forthwith  ;  meantime, 
to  leave  the  office.  And  Blake  went. 

If  Blake  had  been  wise  as  Gleason  he  would  have 
cultivated  Mrs.  Whaling's  society  instead  of  dropping 
her,  as  he  did  in  this  critical  state  of  aifairs.  When 
the  good  lady  called  to  see  the  ladies  of  the  cavalry 
the  next  morning,  she  referred  with  poignant  sorrow  to 
the  fact  that  those  two  misguided  young  men  were 
drowning  their  sorrows  in  the  flowing  bowl.  Mrs. 
Stannard  ventured  a  disclaimer,  but  Mrs.  Whaling 
had  her  information  straight  from  the  quartermaster, 
and  was  not  to  be  downed.  Mrs.  Stannard  wrote  a 
few  earnest  words  to  Mr.  Ray,  making  no  mention 
of  what  she  had  just  heard,  but  begging  him  not  to 
lose  heart  at  having  to  part  with  Dandy,  and  saying 
they  would  all  be  down  to  see  him  the  next  afternoon, 
and  he  must  be  sure  and  be  ready  to  welcome  them. 
Ray  and  Blake  had  been  drinking  confusion  to  the 
doughboys  together  during  the  evening,  and  the  former 
was  very  feverish  and  excitable  when  the  letter  came. 
He  knew  well  that  somebody  had  already  been  telling 
her  of  his  weakness,  and  it  only  angered  him.  He 
wrote  no  answer  until  later  in  the  day ;  but  when  he 
did,  it  was  to  say  that  while  he  would  be  glad  to  see 
them  to-morrow  as  suggested,  he  could  not  but  feel  dis 
appointed  that  they  had  not  come  this  very  afternoon. 
But  as  they  had  not  come,  he  and  Blake  proceeded  to 
get  into  more  mischief. 

It  almost  broke  Ray's  heart  when  that  morning 
Dandy  was  led  past  his  window,  and  presently  he  saw 
the  post  quartermaster,  a  bulky  youth  of  some  forty 


RATS   TROUBLES.  30,', 

summers,  climb  on  his  back,  get  a  rein  in  each  hand, 
and  with  knees  well  hunched  up  and  elbows  braced, 
settle  himself  according  to  his  ideas  of  equestrianism 
in  the  big  padded  saddle.  As  Dandy  felt  a  trifle  fresh, 
and  chafed  under  the  weight  of  the  heavy  rider  and 
heavy  dragoon  bit,  he  switched  his  tail  and  tossed  his 
head,  being  instantly  rewarded  by  a  fierce  jerk  on  the 
huge  curb  and  a  shout  of  "  whoa  there  !"  that  stung 
him  into  amazed  and  suffering  revolt  and  drove  poor 
Ray  almost  distracted.  Dandy's  mouth  was  tender  as 
a  woman's.  Ray  rode  him  with  the  veries^  feather 
touch  on  the  rein,  and  to  see  his  pet  tortured  by  such 
ignorance  was  more  than  he  could  stand.  He  flew  to 
the  door,  and  shouted, — 

"  For  God's  sake,  man,  don't  use  that  curb  !  He'll 
go  all  right  if  you  give  him  his  head."  But  the  in 
fantryman  only  glared,  probably  did  not  hear,  he  was 
so  busy  trying  to  keep  his  seat ;  and  paying  no  atten 
tion  to  Ray,  went  alternately  jerking  and  kicking  up 
the  row,  while  Dandy,  startled,  amazed,  tortured,  and 
high-strung,  backed  and  plunged  and  tugged  at  the  bit. 
A  mother  who  sees  her  child  abused  by  some  ruffian  of 
a  big  boy  knows  what  Ray  suffered  from  that  scene. 
Only  to  such,  and  to  the  trooper  who  loves  the  horse 
who  has  borne  him  through  charge  after  charge,  who 
has  been  his  comrade  on  campaign  after  campaign, 
shared  wounds  and  danger  and  hunger  and  thirst  with 
him,  will  Ray's  next  move  be  conceivable ;  he  threw 
himself  upon  his  bed,  buried  his  face  in  his  arms,  and 
broke  down  utterly. 

He  and  Blake  concocted  between  them  later  in  the 
day  a  letter  to  the  colonel  expressive  of  their  views  aa 

M  26* 


30Q  MARK.  V'S  FAITH. 


to  Dandy's  rights ;  but  thi  letter  was  so  pointed  a  protest 
against  their  seizing  a  regimental  horse  for  quasi-quar- 
termaster's  purposes,  and  so  deep  a  sarcasm  on  infantry 
horsemanship,  that  it  came  back  with  a  stinging  repri 
mand.     Even  Warner  felt  it  a  slur.     Then  Blake  tried 
another :  setting  forth  that  as  neither  the  commanding 
officer  nor  the  quartermaster  had  been  in  saddle  since 
the  war  of  the  Kebellion,— if  they  had  then,  the  latter 
being  a  promotion  from  the  ranks, — they  could  not  be 
expected  to  know  what  they,  as  cavalrymen,  were  re 
quired  to  know,  that  a  horse  of  spirit  was  not  to  be 
ridden  like  a   cast-iron   mule;    but   luckily  for   Mr. 
Blake's  chances  for  future  usefulness  the  post  surgeon 
dropped  in   just  then,  and  casting  his  eye  over  the 
screed,  coolly  took  and  tore  it  up,  sent  Blake  over  to 
the  hospital  for  the  steward,  chatted  pleasantly  with 
Ray  while  he  dressed  the  wounded  thigh,  pointed  sig 
nificantly  to   the   demijohn,   saying,    "There's  where 
much  of  this  fever  comes  from.     No  more  of  it,  Ray." 
And  then  when  Blake  came  back,  took  him  out  and 
gave  him  a  rasping ;  told  him  that  his  hot-head edness 
was  only  making  matters  worse  for  Ray,  and  that  he 
must  take  things  quietly.     He  knew  that  Ray  hadn't 
been  treated  right  about  the  horse,  but  old  Whaling 
couldn't  be  expected  to  have  any  more  sentiment  on 
such   matters   than   his  stolid  quartermaster,   and   by 
fighting  them   he  was  simply  doing  harm.     In  fact, 
said  the  doctor,  Ray  is  now  in  a  very  feverish  and  ex 
citable  state,  and  if  this  continue  I  cannot  say  what 
will  result.     So  a  more  temperate  letter  was  written, 
and  Ray  bowed  to  the  yoke,  and  meekly  signed  a  civil 
explanation  to  the  quartermaster  of  the  horse's  char- 


RAY'S   TROUBLES.  307 

acter  and  the  proper  way  of  handling  him ;  but  that 
worthy  had  meantime  represented  to  the  colonel  that 
Mr.  Ray  had  come  to  his  door  and  sworn  at  him  when 
he  mounted  that  morning,  and  he  would  have  no  ad 
vice  ;  and  so  by  direction  of  the  commanding  officer  a 
communication  was  sent  to  Mr.  Ray  to  the  effect  that 
as  he  was  no  longer  responsible  for  the  care  of  the 
horse  he  would  refrain  from  interference  with  or  sug 
gestions  to  the  post  quartermaster.  This  was  the  letter 
that  Blake  had  brought  in  with  a  flourish ;  and  that 
morning — all  that  day  from  eight  A.M.  until  late  in  the 
afternoon,  without  water,  without  his  customary  feed, 
saddled  and  bridled,  poor  Dandy  stood  in  the  hot  sun  tied 
to  a  post  in  front  of  the  quartermaster's  house,  in  full 
view  of  Ray's  front  windows.  The  quartermaster  was 
too  stiff  and  chafed  after  yesterday's  experiences  to  at 
tempt  to  mount  to-day,  but  he  could  worry  the  horse 
and  madden  Ray  by  keeping  him  tied  there  switching 
the  flies  from  his  scarred  flanks,  and  wistfully  neighing 
and  pricking  up  his  ears  every  time  any  one  approached 
along  the  walk. 

Blake  had  gone  to  town  early  in  the  morning 
after  giving  that  letter  to  Ray.  Hogan  was  in  the 
guard-house  a  prisoner.  Ray  was  penned  to  the- 
limits  of  his  house  in  arrest.  He  could  only  see 
and  hear  the  suffering  of  his  pet  and  not  relieve  him. 
Late  in  the  day  he  called  to  a  soldier  going  by  and 
offered  him  a  dollar  to  go  to  the  horse  and  tie  him  to  a 
post  ten  yards  nearer  where  there  was  a  little  shade. 
The  soldier  untied  and  was  leading  him  away  while 
Dandy  tripped  gratefully  after,  when  the  quartermas 
ter's  Hibernian  accents  were  heard  thundering  an  order 


308  MARION'S  FAITH. 

to  "  come  back  wid  dthat  harrse."  The  soldier  saluted 
and  said  Mr.  Ray  had  asked  him  just  to  move  him  into 
the  shade,  and  the  officer  damned  the  man  for  not 
knowing  better.  Then  Kay  came  to  the  door  and 
asked  the  soldier  to  take  Dandy  a  bucket  of  water,  and 
as  the  man  carried  it  and  the  horse  pawed  and  whin 
nied  at  the  welcome  sight,  the  quartermaster  appeared 
on  his  piazza,  and  shouted  in  wrath  to  the  soldier  nr^ 
to  interfere  again  or  he'd  "  have  him  in  the  lock-up/' 
And  poor  Dandy,  like  an  equine  Tantalus,  was  robbed 
of  the  needed  fluid.  Ray  could  bear  no  more.  He 
kept  one  foot  inside  the  door- way  as  his  arrest  demanded, 
but  leaning  far  out,  with  blazing  eyes  and  clinching 
fist  he  hurled  his  challenge  at  the  quartermaster  in  a 
voice  that  rang  along  the  row  like  the  "  to  arms"  of 
the  trumpets. 

"  You  cowardly  brute !  I'll  horsewhip  you  before 
the  whole  garrison  the  moment  I'm  free  !"  The  sur 
geon  heard  it  and  came  hurrying  to  him.  Mrs.  Tur 
ner  heard  it  and  feared  poor  Mr.  Ray  must  have  been 
taking  too  much.  The  colonel  heard  it  far  up  the  row 
and  incorporated  it  in  the  additional  charge  and  specifi 
cations  he  was  drawing  up  against  Mr.  Ray ;  but  the 
ladies  "  up  the  row"  were  busy  dressing  to  come  down 
according  to  promise  and  see  him,  and  they  did  not 
hear.  Ah,  no  !  Nine  out  of  ten  of  those  who  read 
this  may  say  it  was  all  improbable,  impossible,  or,  if 
true,  that  there  was  nothing  but  drink  to  explain  poor 
Ray's  frantic  outburst ;  but  ask  any  cavalryman  who 
deserves  the  name,  and  we  will  rest  the  defence  with 
him. 

The  ladies  came  as  Mrs.  Stannard  had  promised,  and 


A   SHOT  AT  MIDNIGHT.  309 

with  anxious  face  the  doctor  met  them  at  the  gate.     Mr. 
Ray  was  in  no  condition  to  see  any  one. 

That  night  Mrs.  Stannard  returned  with  the  doctor 
to  his  bedside.     Ray  was  delirious,  in  a  raging  fever. 


CHAPTER    XXII. 

A   SHOT   AT   MIDNIGHT. 

WHILE,  as  has  been  said,  no  further  news  of  affairs 
at  Russell  reached  the  regiment  before  they  plunged 
into  the  thick  of  the  campaign  and  were  soon  cut  off 
from  all  communication,  there  were  still  three  or  four 
days  in  which  the  officers  could  talk  over  matters  and 
write  their  letters  to  be  sent  back  from  the  intrenched 
camp  at  Goose  Creek  by  the  first  party  that  was  numeri 
cally  strong  enough  to  undertake  the  journey.  The 
colonel  had  been  furnished  a  brief  synopsis  of  the 
charges  against  Ray,  and  Stannard  swore  with  a  mighty 
oath  when  he  read  them  that  from  beginning  to  end  the 
whole  thing  was  made  up  by  Gleason  and  that  other 
scoundrel,  Rallston.  The  officers  came  together,  and 
Stannard  told  what  he  knew  of  Rallston's  shadowy 
record  in  the  past,  and  one  by  one  Gleason's  hints, 
sneers,  and  slurs  about  Ray  were  dragged  to  light  and 
exploded.  There  were  men  sitting  around  the  colonel's 
tent,  a  hardy,  bushwhacking  set  of  frontiersmen  they 
all  looked,  who  for  very  shame  wished  themselves 


310  MARION'S  FAITH. 

away.  Canker's  cheeks  burned  as  he  recalled  how 
often  he  had  permitted  Gleason  to  defame  Ray.  Crane 
and  Wilkins  hung  their  heads  and  tugged  at  their 
stubby  beards,  and  looked  uncomfortable,  for  the  whole 
tenor  of  talk  was  an  enthusiastic  and  vehement  vote 
of  confidence  in  the  Kentuckian.  Knowing  him  to  be 
hot-headed  and  rash,  there  was  great  anxiety  about 
him,  and  one  impulsive  fellow  suggested  that  they  all 
sign  a  letter  to  him  expressing  their  belief  in  his  inno 
cence  and  their  confidence  in  his  cause.  This  would 
not  do,  said  the  colonel ;  it  was  tantamount  to  insubor 
dination.  Individually  they  were  at  liberty  to  write, 
but  it  must  not  be  done  as  a  regiment ;  and  so  it  resulted 
that  only  two  or  three  wrote  to  him,  and  one  of  these 
was  Canker. 

Stannard  was  not  fully  satisfied.  It  was  agreed  that 
at  the  very  first  opportunity  they  should  have  another 
general  talk,  and  the  officers  had  then  gone  to  their 
various  tents  to  send  what  might  be  the  last  messages 
home.  They  were  to  march  over  against  the  Rosebud 
at  dawn,  and  it  was  only  a  few  miles'  gallop  across  the 
divide  where  Custer  and  his  gallant  men  lay  at  their 
shallow  graves,  most  of  them  by  this  time  disinterred 
by  prowling  wolves  or  vengeful  Indians. 

Truscott,  too,  had  written  to  Ray,  and  it  was  not 
easy.  He  had  written  to  Grace  a  long  letter,  and  that 
was  harder  still.  Three  days  had  elapsed  since  Glea- 
son's  explosive  announcement  of  that  strange  tableau 
at  his  home.  He  had  disdained  to  listen  to  explanation 
or  to  further  statement.  He  would  not  condescend  to 
ask  Webb  a  single  question ;  but  he  had  called  him 
aside  that  morning  and  said  a  quiet  word. 


A   SHOT  AT  MIDNIGHT.  311 

"  Should  you  ever  need  a  solution  of  what  may  have 
seemed  a  mystery  to  you,  Webb,  in  what  you  mention 
having  seen, — Mrs.  Truscott  and  my  friend  Ray,  I 
mean, — you  have  simply  to  remember  that  the  news  of 
that  massacre  over  yonder  has  unnerved  every  woman 
in  the  army,  and  that  Mrs.  Truscott  is  not  now  in  a 
condition  to  bear  any  shock.  I  had  asked  Ray  to  go 
regularly  to  my  house." 

He  was  incapable  of  doubting  her.  He  would  not 
doubt  Ray,  and  yet — and  yet  there  was  something  about 
the  matter  he  did  not  like.  She  had  written  to  him— 
three  pages — that  afternoon  after  it  all  occurred,  and 
had  mentioned  nothing  of  Ray's  being  there,  nothing 
of  her  having  been  agitated  during  his  visit,  nothing  at 
all  of  it ;  and  yet  such  a  scene  had  occurred.  He  could 
account  for  there  being  a  scene,  but  he  could  not  recon 
cile  himself  to  her  utter  silence  upon  the  subject. 

In  his  letter  to  Ray  he,  of  course,  said  nothing  of  it. 
In  his  letter  to  his  wife  he  gently,  lovingly,  pointed  out 
to  her  that  it  was  not  right  that  he  should  be  told  by 
strangers  of  her  being  seen  sobbing  upon  the  sofa  when 
alone  with  Mr.  Ray,  and  that  she  should  make  no  allu 
sion  to  a  matter  that  had  struck  them  as  so  extraordi 
nary.  Could  he  have  taken  her  in  his  strong  arms  and 
used  just  those  words  in  speaking  of  it  with  all  the 
grace  of  love  and  trust  and  tenderness  accenting  every 
syllable,  she  would  never  have  mistaken  the  mood  in 
which  he  wrote ;  but  who  that  loves  has  not  marked 
the  wide  difference  between  such  words  written  and 
spoken  ?  When  the  letter  came  it  cut  Grace  to  the  heart, 
and  it  was  the  last  letter  to  reach  her  in  one  whole 
month.  The  next  had  to  come  way  around  by  the 


312  MARION'S  FAITH. 

Yellowstone.  Was  it  likely  that  in  that  intervening 
month  she  should  care  to  see  much  of  Ray  ? 

All  over  the  Northwest  that  column  went  marching 
and  chasing  after  the  now  scattered  bands  of  Crazy 
Horse  and  Sitting  Bull :  always  on  the  trail,  always 
pushing  ahead.  From  the  Tongue  to  the  Rosebud ; 
then  over  to  the  Powder ;  then  up  to  the  Yellowstone ; 
then,  while  Miles  went  across  after  the  fleeing  Unca- 
papas  and  their  wily  old  rascal  of  a  leader,  the  Gray 
Fox  gave  his  ragged  followers  a  few  days  in  which  to 
bait  their  horses  and  patch  their  boots  and  breeches ; 
then  on  he  led  them  after  the  Ogallallas  and  Brules, 
far  across  the  Little  Missouri,  over  to  Heart  River, 
where  rations  gave  out ;  then  down  due  south  by  com 
pass  through  flooding  rain,  heading  for  the  Black  Hills, 
two  weeks'  march  away.  It  was  summer  sunshine  when 
they  cut  loose  from  tents  and  baggage  at  Goose  Creek, 
with  ten  days'  rations  and  the  clothes  they  had  on.  It 
was  freezing  by  night  before  they  saw  those  tents  and 
wagons  again  down  in  the  southern  hills,  where  they 
came  dragging  in  late  in  September,  having  lived  for 
days  on  the  flesh  of  their  slaughtered  horses,  and  in 
all  these  weeks  of  marching  and  suffering  and  fight 
ing  no  line  had  reached  Stannard  or  Truscott  or  any 
body  from  the  wives  at  home.  There  were  sore  and 
anxious  hearts  among  them,  but  those  at  home  were 
sorer  still. 

It  was  the  second  week  in  August  when  those  last 
letters  came  from  the  — th  to  Russell.  It  was  the  second 
week  in  September  before  they  heard  from  them  at  the 
bivouac  on  the  Yellowstone.  It  was  the  second  week  in 
October  before  the  next  news  came, — the  hurried  letters 


•  A   SHOT  AT  MIDNIGHT.  313 

brought  down  from  the  Black  Hills,  and  telling  of  their 
homeward  coming.  It  was  the  last  week  in  October  as 
they  rode — bronzed  and  bearded  and  gaunt  and  thin, 
herding  in  the  disarmed  bands  of  Red  Cloud — that  the 
orders  were  received  returning  them  to  winter  quarters 
far  down  along  the  Union  Pacific,  nearly  ten  days'' 
march  to  the  south  ;  and  meantime — meantime  how  very 
much  had  happened  at  Russell. 

It  was  the  twelfth  day  of  Mr.  Ray's  arrest  and  the 
sixth  of  his  sharp  illness  that  Mr.  Gleason  arrived  at 
the  post  and  went  to  report  to  the  commanding  officer. 
Mrs.  Truscott  and  Miss  Sanford,  seated  on  their  piazza, 
saw  him  alight  at  his  quarters  from  the  stage,  and  im 
mediately  went  in  and  closed  their  door.  Mrs.  Stannard 
had  been  with  them  awhile  the  evening  previous.  Ray 
was  entirely  out  of  danger  and  was  sitting  up  again, 
but  very  quiet  and  weak.  Gleason,  it  seems,  had  taken 
a  roundabout  way  on  his  return,  and  had  stopped  two 
days  at  Fort  Laramie,  from  which  post  he  did  consid 
erable  telegraphing.  The  mail  coming  direct  from 
Fetterman  brought  those  letters  (which  were  sent  by 
the  sergeant)  three  days  ahead  of  him,  and  not  a  lady 
in  the  cavalry  quarters  at  Russell,  except  perhaps  Mrs. 
"Wilkins,  would  now  receive  him.  Mrs.  Stannard  met 
him  on  the  walk  soon  after  his  arrival,  and  passed  him 
with  a  mere  inclination  of  the  head  and  the  coldest 
possible  mention  of  his  name,  but  she  saw  he  was  thin 
and  haggard  and  very  anxious-looking.  He  was  clos 
eted  with  the  post  commander  a  long  time,  and  came 
out  looking  worse.  Old  Whaling  was  swearing  mad 
over  a  letter  from  Stannard  and  one  from  the  com 
manding  officer  of  the  — th,  plainly  telling  him  that  if 
o  27 


314  MARIONS  FAITH. 

he  had  been  induced  to  take  steps  against  Mr.  Ray  by 
any  representations  of  Mr.  Gleason,  he  would  find  him 
self  heavily  involved ;  and  now  Gleason  plainly  wanted 
to  "  crawfish,"  and  to  declare  that  Whaling  had  used 
as  facts  what  he  had  only  suggested  as  possibilities. 
Whaling  was  also  notified  that  they  proposed  to  ask  the 
department  commander  to  have  proceedings  against 
Ray  suspended  until  the  return  of  the  regiment  from 
the  campaign,  and  meantime  here  was  the  young  gen 
tleman  sick  on  his  hands  at  the  post,  and  that  blunder 
ing,  bullet-headed  quartermaster  of  his  had  got  him 
involved  in  another  row.  Mr.  Blake  had  made  an 
application  to  department  headquarters  for  a  board  of 
officers  to  appraise  the  value  of  one  public  horse,  which 
he,  Lieutenant  Blake,  desired  to  purchase ;  had  written 
to  a  staff  friend  at  Omaha  a  graphic  description  of 
Dandy's  and  Ray's  "  devotion  to  each  other/'  and  the 
decree  of  divorce  which  was  passed  by  Colonel  Whaling's 
order.  The  quartermaster  had  meantime  had  Dandy 
out  in  the  sun  for  two  more  days,  tied  to  the  post,  and 
had  been  notified  by  Mr.  Blake  that  if  he  ever  spoke 
to  him,  except  in  the  line  of  duty,  he  would  kick  him, 
and  things  were  in  almost  as  eruptive  a  state  at  Russell 
in  this  blessed  month  of  August  of  the  centennial  year 
as  they  had  been  at  old  Sandy  during  the  Pelham 
regime,  only — only  who  could  this  time  say  it  was  a 
woman  at  the  bottom  of  it  ? 

And  yet  was  it  not  Gleason's  unrequited  attentions 
to  our  heroine  that  prompted  much  of  the  trouble-? 
Fie  on  it  for  a  foul  suggestion  !  Is  woman  to  be  held 
responsible  for  a  row  because  more  than  one  man  falls 
in  love  with  her  ? 


A  SHOT  AT  MIDNIGHT.  315 

And  yet  again.  She  who  has  been  so  studiously  kept 
in  the  background  all  these  dreary  chapters  has  been 
coming  to  the  fore  on  her  own  account.  In  plain  cav 
alry  language,  Miss  Sanford  has  twice  taken  the  bit  in 
her  teeth  and  bolted.  Gleason  once  discovered,  anent 
the  club- room,  that  she  had  a  temper.  Mrs.  Turner 
was  the  next  to  arrive  at  this  conclusion.  It  was  the 
day  after  Mr.  Ray's  illness  began.  Mrs.  Whaling  was 
paying  an  evening  visit.  Mrs.  Turner  had  dropped  in, 
as  she  often  did  where  the  ladies  were  apt  to  gather, 
and,  despite  Mrs.  Truscott's  polite  and  modest  expres- 
flion  of  her  disagreement  with  Mrs.  Whaling's  views, 
that  amiable  lady  persisted  in  descanting  upon  Mr. 
Ray's  intemperate  language  and  conduct,  and  repeatedly 
intimating  that  it  was  all  due  to  intemperate  drink. 
"  The  general"  had  said  so,  and  that  settled  it.  Miss 
Sanford  sat  with  blazing  eyes  and  cheeks  that  flushed 
redder  and  redder ;  she  was  biting  her  lip  and  tapping 
the  carpet  with  the  toe  of  her  slipper.  Mrs.  Whaling 
was  called  away  by  some  household  demand  before  she 
had  fairly  finished  her  homily,  and  then  Mrs.  Turner, 
who  had  narrowly  watched  these  symptoms,  determined 
to  test  the  depth  of  Miss  Sanford's  views  upon  the  sub 
ject, — the  revelation  might  be  of  interest. 

"It  does  seem  a  pity  that  Mr.  Ray  should  have 
done  so  much  to  ruin  his  fine  record,  does  it  not,  Miss 
Sanford?" 

"  Ruin  it !  Mrs.  Turner  ?  Pardon  ine  !  but  you 
speak  of  it  as  though  you  believed  in  his  guilt, — as 
though  you  thought  him  culpable.  If  I  were  a  lady 
of  the  — th,  I  should  glory  in  the  name  he  had  made 
for  it,  and  be  defending,  not  abusing  him."  And, 


316  MARION'S  FAITH. 

with  the  mien  of  a  queen  of  tragedy,  she  swished 
out  of  the  room  to  cool  her  fevered  cheeks  upon  the 
piazza. 

"  Well !"  gasped  Mrs.  Turner.  "  If  I  had  supposed 
she  cared  for  him  I  wouldn't  have  suggested  such  a 
thing  an  instant." 

"  It  is  not  a  question  of  her  '  caring'  for  him  as  you 
say,  Mrs.  Turner,"  spoke  up  Mrs.  Truscott,  with  unu 
sual  spirit.  "He  is  my  husband's  warmest  friend. 
We're  all  proud  of  him,  all  indignant  at  his  treatment, 
and  your  language  is  simply  incomprehensible  !" 

Just  didn't  Mrs.  Turner  tell  that  interview — with 
variations — all  over  the  garrison  within  twenty-four 
hours?  She  had  incentive  enough;  the  ladies  flocked 
to  hear  it,  and  one  absurd  maiden  saw  fit  the  next  even 
ing  to  simper  her  congratulations  to  Miss  Sanford  on 
"her  engagement" ;  but  by  that  time  Marion  had  recov 
ered  her  self-control.  She  met  Mrs.  Turner  as  though 
nothing  of  an  unusual  nature  had  occurred.  She 
laughingly,  even  sweetly  thanked  the  damsel,  and  told 
her  she  was  engaged  to  no  one. 

But  in  another  way  she  had  come  out  like  a  heroine. 
She  loved  horses,  as  has  been  said.  She  had  wept  in 
secret  over  Mrs.  Stannard's  description  of  Dandy's 
seizure,  and  she  was  vehement  with  indignation  at  the 
subsequent  treatment  of  Mr.  Ray's  pet  and  comrade. 
No  one  ever  saw  Marion  Sanford  so  excited  about  any 
thing  before,  said  Grace ;  she  could  not  refrain  from 
going  to  the  door  every  little  while  to  see  if  Dandy 
were  still  tied  there  in  front  of  the  quartermaster's,  and 
she  would  have  gone  to  that  functionary  himself  and 
implored  him  to  send  the  horse  back  to  the  stable,  only 


A   SHOT  AT  MIDNIGHT.  317 

she  could  not  trust  herself  to  speak.  But  the  second 
day  she  could  stand  it  no  longer ;  she  boldly  assailed 
Colonel  Whaling,  pointed  out  to  him  that  for  two  days 
poor  Dandy  had  been  kept  there  in  the  hot  sun,  tor 
tured  by  flies,  and  begged  him  to  exert  his  authority 
and  stop  it.  It  made  the  quartermaster  rabid.  He 
knew  somebody  must  have  been  interfering,  but  that 
night  the  colonel  told  him  he  must  take  better  care  of 
the  sorrel,  who  was  looking  badly  already,  and  ordered 
him  to  be  returned  to  the  corral  for  a  day  or  two.  But 
this  very  night,  as  Dandy  was  being  led  away,  she 
heard  Blake  say  to  Mrs.  Truscott, — 

"  I'd  give  anything  to  buy  him  and  give  him  to 
Kay." 

"  Could  you  buy  him  ?"  she  exclaimed,  all  flushing 
eagerness. 

"Why,  yes,  if  I  had  an  unmortgaged  cent,  Miss 
Sanford,"  he  said,  with  a  nervous  laugh. 

She  rose,  her  eyes  and  cheeks  aflame,  and  stood  be 
fore  them,  almost  trembling,  while  her  hands  worked 
nervously, — 

"  Then  do  it !  Mr.  Blake.  Don't  let  him  suffer  an 
other  minute !  buy  him — for  me,  no  matter  what  he 
costs,  and  then — you  give  him  to  Mr.  Ray.  I — I 
mean  every  word  of  it.  You  can  have  the  money  this 
instant, — the  check  at  least." 

Grace  sprang  up  and  threw  her  arms  around  her 
neck.  "  You  darling  !  How  I  wish  I  could  do  it !" 
was  all  she  could  say,  but  Miss  Sanford  was  simply 
paying  no  attention  to  her.  She  was  waiting  to  hear 
from  Mr.  Blake,  who  was  too  much  astounded  to  speak. 
That  evening  it  was  all  settled  that  Blake  should  make 

27* 


°,18  MARION'S  FAITH. 

immediate  application  to  purchase,  and  he  went  home 
spouting  Shakespeare  by  the  page,  perfectly  enraptured 
with  this  new  and  unsuspected  trait  in  Marion,  and 
perfectly  satisfied  that — it  was  not  for  him. 

The  paper  went  in,  and,  preceded  by  Blake's  per 
sonal  letter  to  the  staff-officer,  was  forwarded  to  Omaha 
with  an  unfavorable  endorsement.  The  post  quarter 
master  had  said  that  except  the  band  horses  there  were 
none  there  that  were  not  needed  by  the  quartermaster's 
service,  and  daily  in  use.  All  the  same  the  order  was 
promptly  issued,  and  came  back  in  four  days  with  thu 
detail  of  Colonel  Whaling,  the  post  surgeon,  and  Mr. 
Warner.  Gleason  was  not  named, — a  singular  thing., 
since  he  was  the  only  cavalry  officer,  except  Blake,  now 
for  duty  at  the  post,  and  they  had  begun  officer  of  the 
day  work.  But  the  very  day  the  board  met  Ray  was 
out  on  his  piazza  taking  the  air  with  "  extended  limits," 
and  rejoicing  in  the  letters  that  had  just  come  to  him 
from  the  fellows  at  the  front  (the  same  mail  had 
brought  Mrs.  Truscott  that  letter  from  Jack  which  sent 
her  to  her  room  in  misery),  and  towards  evening  Mrs. 
Stannard  came  down  to  see  him  awhile,  and  hear  his 
letters  and  tell  him  of  her  own.  Mr.  Gleason  passed 
out  of  his  quarters  girt  with  sabre, — he  was  officer  of 
the  dayy — and  walked  over  towards  the  guard-house 
across  the  parade.  Blake  had  gone  "up  the  .row." 
He  wanted  to  give  them  a  chance  for  a  quiet  talk,  for 
.Ray's  heart  was  full  of  gratitude  to  the  major's  noble 
wife.  She  had  nursed  him  like  a  mother  in  his  delir 
ium  and  illness ;  she  had  nursed  him  as  she  had  other 
fellows  when  they  were  down,  and  they  none  of  them 
forgot  it.  As  Blake  passed  Number  11  and  glanced 


A  SHOT  AT  MIDNIGHT.  319 

back  towards  the  rear  windows,  he  saw  a  sight  that, 
to  use  the  words  he  often  affected,  "  gave  him  pause/' 

Standing  cap  in  hand  at  the  back  of  the  house  was 
the  soldier  Hogan,  a  flush  of  mingled  delight  and  sur 
prise  on  his  face,  and  his  mouth  expanded  in  a  grin  of 
embarrassed  ecstasy.  In  front  of  him  was  Miss  San- 
ford,  daintily  dressed  as  usual,  holding  out  her  hand. 
She  caught  sight  of  Blake,  pressed  something  into 
Hogan's  hand  and  sprang  quickly  back. 

Can  she  be  sending  Ray  a  note  ?  was  his  first  thought. 
He  concluded  not  to  go  in  just  then,  but  went  on  his 
way.  That  night  Hogan  was  unusually  conversational 
around  the  house.  He  was  plainly  exhilarated.  He 
came  to  the  room  where  the  two  officers  were  seated 
and  stumbled  over  Mr.  Blake's  boots. 

"  What  on  earth  do  you  want,  Hogan  ?"  asked  Kay, 
looking  up  from  his  paper  and  pipe. 

"  I  was  wanting  to  clane  the  lootenant's  pistol,  sir, 
an'  it  isn't  in  the  holster." 

"  You  needn't  clean  it  to-night,"  said  Ray,  coloring. 
"  I  want  it." 

"  What  the  dickens  do  you  want  it  for  to-night  ?" 
said  Blake.  "  Let  him  have  it ;  it  hasn't  been  cleaned 
for  a  month." 

"  Never  mind,  Hogan,  not  to-night." 

"  Could  I  be  gone  for  a  couple  of  hours,  sir,  if  there's 
nothing  else  the  lootenant  wants  ?" 

"Oh,  yes,  go  ahead;  I  shall  not  need  you  until 
morning." 

"  Would  the  lootenant  take  care  of  this  for  me  ?" 
said  Hogan,  holding  out  two  twenty-dollar  bills.  "  I 
might  Jose  it  if  I  tuk  too  much," 


320  MARKUPS  FAITH. 

"  Don't  take  too  much,  then,  you  sinner.  Where  did 
you  get  this  money,  sir  ?" 

"Shure  the  lootenant  mustn't  blow  on  me,"  said 
Hogan,  with  rapture  in  his  eyes  and  a  glibness  born  of 
poteen  on  his  tongue,  "  but  that  court-martial  was  the 
makin'  of  me  fortune,  sir.  Shure  not  only  did  the 
lootenant  an'  Misther  Blake  give  me  a  fine  charactther 
and  ten  dollars  to  boot,  but  the  moment  do  I  get  out 
of  the  gyard-house  Mrs.  Thruscott  sends  Flanigan  for 
me,  an'  when  I  get  there  shure  it's  the  young  leddy  as 
wants  to  see  me.  f  You're  a  good  soldier,  Mr.  Hogan/ 
says  she,  i  and  you're  true  to  Dandy,  you  are.'  '  Faix 
I  am,  ma'am,'  says  I, '  an'  long  life  to  him  and  the 
man  that  rides  him,'  says  I.  i  Shure  it's  he's  the  sol 
dier,  ma'am,  and  the  boss  rider  of  the  regiment  too/ 
'  I  know  it,  Mr.  Hogan,'  says  she,  all  a-blushin'  like, 
1  an'  I'm  proud  of  ye  for  behr  so  thrue  to  him  in  his 
throuble,'  says  she.  '  Faix,  an'  the  men  would  mur- 
ther  me,  miss,  if  I  wasn't,'  says  I  ;  and  so  they  would, 
begorra  !  and  thin  says  she,  l  Now  how  much  did  they 
punish  you  on  that  court  ?'  says  she.  '  Tin  dollars 
blind  an'  sivin  days  on  the — in  the  gyard-house, 
ma'am,'  says  I ;  an'  says  she,  '  Here's  twinty  for  the 
tin  they  robbed  ye  of,  and  five  for  every  day  they  kep' 
ye  from  yer  masther  an'  Dandy.'  An',  begorra,  looten 
ant,  she  ran  in  the  house  before  iver  I  could  shpake 
another  wurrud." 

"  Go  it,  Mickey  Free  !"  shouted  Blake,  roaring  with 
laughter.  Ray  had  grown  redder  and  redder  as  the 
Irishman  told  his  tale,  and  at  last,  laughing  to  cover 
his  confusion,  bade  him  begone. 

That  night  was  still  and  beautiful.     Too  excited  by 


A   SHOT  AT  MIDNIGHT.  321 

the  events  of  the  day  to  think  of  sleep,  Marion  San- 
ford  was  awake  long  after  midnight.  There  was  no 
moon,  but  the  skies  were  cloudless,  and  a  summer  breeze 
played  with  the  curtains  of  her  open  window.  Far 
down  by  the  stables  she  heard  the  call  of  the  sentry  at 
half-past  twelve  o'clock.  A  few  minutes  later  there 
was  a  sharp,  sudden  report,  as  of  a  pistol,  somewhere 
down  the  row ;  then  as  she  sprang  to  the  window  she 
heard  a  stifled  cry ;  then  all  was  silence  again — unless 
— was  it  fancy  ?  She  felt,  rather  than  heard,  a  running 
footfall.  Excited,  startled,  she  hastily  threw  on  a 
wrapper  and  shawl  and  ran  in  to  Grace,  who  was  sleep 
ing  quietly  as  before.  Looking  out  on  the  parade,  she 
could  hear  men  running  rapidly  over  from  the  guard 
house.  Something  terrible  had  happened  she  now  felt 
sure.  Then  a  man  was  heard  speeding  up  the  walk  to 
wards  the  commanding  officer's.  She  could  see  him  as 
he  darted  by,  and  listened  intently.  He  banged  at 
the  colonel's  door,  and  then  presently  more  men  came 
hurrying  by.  Still  she  did  not  like  to  call ;  she  feared 
to  awaken  or  shock  Grace.  But  in  another  minute,  as 
a  member  of  the  guard  ran  by,  Mrs.  Stannard's  clear 
voice  floated  out  on  the  night  air, — 

"  What  is  the  matter,  corporal  ?" 

"  Lieutenant  Gleason's  murdered,  ma'am ;  shot  dead 
in  his  room." 

'{ Good  heavens  !     Who  could  have  done  it  ?" 

"  I  don't — leastwise,  ma'am,  they — they  say  'twas 
Lieutenant  Ray." 


322  MARION'S  FAITH. 

CHAPTEE    XXIII. 

IN   CLOSER   TOILS. 

A  CORONER'S  inquest  was  in  session  at  Russell,  and 
in  the  benighted  regions  of  the  Eastern  States  where  the 
functions  of  that  worthy  public  officer  are  mainly  ex 
ercised  in  connection  with  the  "  demnition  moist"  re 
mains  of  the  "  found  drowned/'  or  the  attenuated  skele 
tons  of  the  starved,  there  can  be  but  faint  conception 
of  the  divinity  which  doth  hedge  a  coroner  in  a  fron 
tier  city  where  people,  as  a  rule,  die  with  their  boots  on. 
Perhaps  it  was  a  proper  consideration  of  the  relative 
importance  of  the  two  offices  which  had  induced  Mr. 
Perkins  to  decline  with  thanks  the  nomination  of  ter 
ritorial  delegate  to  Congress,  and  to  intimate  through 
the  columns  of  The  Blizzard  that  he  sought  no  higher 
office  at  the  hands  of  the  people  than  that  in  which,  to 
the  best  of  his  humble  ability,  he  had  already  served 
two  terms.     As  the  emoluments  of  the  coronership  were 
dependent  entirely  upon  the  number  of  inquests  held 
during  the  year,  the  position  in  an  Ohio  town  of  five 
thousand  inhabitants  would  hardly  have  taken  prece 
dence  over  a  seat  in  the  House  of  Representatives,  but 
a  lively  frontier  city,  the  supply  centre  of  all  the  stock, 
mining,  and  trading  enterprises  to  the  north  of  the 
railway, — a  town  that  had  been  the  division  terminus 
since  the  road  was  built,  and  was  the  recognized  me 
tropolis  of  the  plains, — well,  "  that  was  different,  some- 


IN  CLOSER   TOILS.  323 

how,"  said  Mr.  Perkins's  friends  ;  and,  as  his  gleanings 
had  been  double  those  he  would  have  received  in  Con 
gress, — that  is,  in  the  way  of  salary, — Mr.  Perkins  had 
wisely  decided  that  so  long  as  "  business  was  brisk"  he 
preferred  the  exaltation  of  holding  the  most  lucrative 
position  in  the  gift  of  his  fellow-citizens.  His  decis 
ion  had  been  a  disappointment  to  other  aspirants,  for 
not  only  pecuniarily  was  the  office  of  first  importance, 
but,  in  the  very  nature  of  his  functions,  the  coroner 
acquired  in  the  eyes  of  all  men  a  mysterious  interest 
and  influence  beside  which  the  governor  of  the  Terri 
tory,  the  mayor,  and  even  the  chief  of  the  fire  depart 
ment  felt  themselves  dwarfed  into  insignificance.  For 
four  years  Mr.  Perkins  had  been  a  busy  man.  He  dis 
pensed  far  more  patronage  than  the  delegate  to  Con 
gress,  as  he  was  constantly  besieged  by  a  class  of  im 
pecunious  patriots  to  "  put  ?em  on  the  next  one."  A 
stranger  arriving  by  train  and  seeing  a  man  shot  down 
in  front  of  some  one  of  the  gambling-saloons,  would 
have  been  perplexed  to  account  for  the  rush  of  the  crowd 
in  one  direction,  instead  of  scattering  till  the  shooting 
was  over  and  then  concentrating  to  stare  at  the  vic 
tim.  It  was  a  race  for  the  coroner,  and  a  place  on  the 
jury  was  the  customary  reward  of  the  winner.  Too 
much  precipitancy  in  some  such  cases,  resulting  in  the 
discovery  by  Mr.  Perkins  on  arriving  at  the  scene  that 
the  corpse  was  humorously  waiting  for  him  to  "  set  up 
the  drinks,"  had  resulted  in  the  establishment  by  him 
of  a  system  of  fines  in  the  event  of  similar  false  alarms  ; 
but,  as  has  been  said,  the  coroner  had  reigned  for  sev 
eral  years  as  the  wealthiest,  the  most  envied  and  ad 
mired  of  the  public  officials.  He  had  invested  in  mines 


32  i  MARION'S  FAITH. 

and  real  estate,  had  become  a  money-lender  and  capi 
talist,  and  for  some  time  considered  himself  on  the 
high  road  to  fortune,  when  the  discovery  of  gold  in  the 
Black  Hills  caused  a  sudden  hegira  thither  of  nine- 
tenths  of  the  shooting  element,  and  the  summer  of  '76 
found  Mr.  Perkins  a  changed  and  embittered  man. 

"  Cheyenne  ain't  what  it  used  to  be,"  he  would  re 
gret  fully  say,  as  entire  weeks  would  elapse  without  a 
fatal  termination  of  a  row;  "fellers  who  used  to  shoot 
on  sight  only  sit  around  and  jaw  now.  It's  gettin' 
slow  as  any  d — d  one-horse  town  east  of  the  Missis 
sippi."  And  in  the  general  gloom  of  the  situation  Mr. 
Perkins  had  more  than  once  regretted  that  he  had  not 
gone  to  Congress. 

It  was  with  a  thrill  of  renewed  hope,  therefore,  that 
he  heard  the  loud  knocking  at  his  door  before  dawn, 
and  descending,  received  with  ill-concealed  gratification 
the  message  of  the  commanding  officer  at  Fort  Russell 
that  his  services  were  needed  there  at  once.  An  officer 
had  been  shot  to  death  in  his  bedroom.  It  was  one 
thing  to  air  his  importance  before  an  admiring  audience 
of  townspeople;  but  this — this  was  something  border 
ing  on  bliss.  For  the  time  being  he  could  sit  in  judg 
ment  on  the  words  and  deeds  of  those  military  satraps 
at  the  fort.  Perkins  had  bundled  a  jury  of  his  chums 
into  carriages  and  started  out  across  the  prairie  before 
the  smoke  from  the  morning  gun  had  fairly  died  away. 
By  the  time  the  men  had  finished  breakfast  the  jury 
ami  the  reporters  were  at  their  work,  and  an  awe-stricken 
group  stood  silently  at  the  gate  of  the  little  brown  cot 
tage  wherein  death  had  set  his  seal  during  the  watches 
of  the  night. 


IN  CLOSER    TOILS.  325 

It  was  in  the  back  room  of  the  first  floor  that  the 
jury  had  assembled.  There  on  the  narrow  bed  lay  the 
mortal  remains  of  the  officer  whose  death-cry  had 
startled  the  garrison  so  short  a  time  before.  Men  and 
women  had  spoken  with  bated  breath,  with  dread  and 
horror  on  their  faces,  with  heavy  load  at  heart, — many 
had  not  slept  at  all, — since  the  news  flew  round  the 
garrison  at  one  o'clock.  It  was  shocking  to  think  of 
Mr.  Gleason  as  murdered,  but  that  he  should  have  been 
murdered  in  cold  blood,  without  a  word  of  altercation, 
and  murdered  by  an  officer  of  his  own  regiment, — one 
so  brave,  so  gifted,  so  popular  as  Ray, — was  simply  hor 
rible  ;  and  yet — who  that  heard  the  evidence  being 
given, — slowly,  reluctantly,  painfully — before  that  jury 
could  arrive  at  any  other  conclusion.  Even  before  the 
jury  came  sentries  with  fixed  bayonet  were  stationed  at 
Ray's  bedroom  door,  and  no  one  was  allowed  to  go  in 
or  out  except  by  order  of  the  commanding  officer. 

The  colonel  had  not  gone  to  bed  since  being  aroused. 
The  moment  the  post  surgeon  had  announced  that 
Gleason  was  stone  dead  the  body  was  lifted  to  the  bed ; 
Lieutenant  Warner  was  placed  in  charge  of  the  room, 
with  orders  to  see  that  nothing  was  touched  or  removed, 
and  the  colonel  began  an  immediate  investigation.  The 
sergeant  of  the  guard,  who,  with  one  or  two  men,  had 
been  out  searching  the  rear  yards,  had  handed  the  col 
onel  on  his  arrival  a  silver-mounted  pistol, — Smith  & 
Wesson's,  of  handsome  make  and  finish,  with  every 
chamber  loaded  but  one.  He  had  picked  it  up  just  by 
the  back  gate.  On  the  guard  were  engraved  in  mon 
ogram  the  letters  W.  P.  R.,  and  as  the  colonel  held  it 
up,  Private  Hogan,  who  had  been  assisting  in  raising 

28 


326  MARION'S  FAITH. 

the  body  to  the  bed,  gave  one  quick  look  at  it,  ex 
claimed,  «  Oh,  Holy  Mother !"  and  hurried  from  the 
room.  He  was  sternly  called  back,  and  came,  white 
and  trembling. 

"  Do  you  know  that  pistol,  sir  ?     Whose  is  it  ?" 
Hogan  wrung  his  hands  and  looked  miserably  around. 
"  Answer  at  once  !" 
"  It's— it's  the  lootenant's,  sir  !" 
"  What  lieutenant  ?" 

"  Misther  Kay,  sir.  Oh,  God  forgive  me  !"  sobbed 
poor  Hogan,  and,  covering  his  face  with  his  hands,  he 
burst  into  tears. 

"Where  is  Mr.  Ray?"  demanded  the  colonel,  in  a 
voice  that  trembled  despite  his  strong  effort  at  self- 
control. 

"  He  was  here,  sir,  when  I  came,"  said  the  sergeant 
of  the  guard.  "  He  was  kneeling  over  the  body,  and 
told  me  to  hurry  out  on  the  prairie, — the  murderer  had 
run  that  way." 

"  Mr.  Ray  is  in  his  quarters,  colonel.  I  took  him 
there  just  before  you  came,"  said  Blake,  entering  at 
the  moment,  and  Blake's  face  was  white  as  death. 

"  Who  was  here  besides  Mr.  Ray?"  asked  the  col 
onel  of  the  sergeant. 

"Not  a  soul,  sir.  The  body  lay  there  on  its  face 
where  the  blood  is  on  the  floor,  and  Mr.  Ray  was 
kneeling  beside  it  trying  to  turn  it  over,  I  thought.  I 
was  standing  in  front  of  the  company  quarters  just 
over  here,  sir,  when  the  shot  was  fired,  and  I  heard  the 
yell.  I  ran  hard  as  I  could  straight  here,  and  it  wasn't 
half  a  minute." 

"  A  nd  you  saw  no  one  else  at  all  ?" 


IN   CLOSER    TOILS.  327 

"No  one,  sir.  The  lieutenant  said  the  man  as  did  it 
rushed  out  on  the  prairie  between  the  hospital  and  the 
surgeon's,  and  it  was  dark,  sir,  and  no  use  looking. 
Coming  back,  I  picked  up  the  pistol  right  by  the  gate." 

"Stay  here  all  of  you,"  said  the  colonel.  "Mr. 
Blake,  I  want  you." 

And  in  another  moment  Blake  went  silently  up  the 
row.  The  colonel's  orders  were  that  he  should  guard 
his  comrade  until  relieved  by  the  officer  of  the  day 
with  his  sentries. 

But  the  coroner's  jury  had  investigated  still  further. 
The  web  of  circumstantial  evidence  that  had  enveloped 
Eay  by  eight  o'clock  that  August  morning  was  simply 
appalling.  It  summed  up  about  as  follows.  The  ser 
geant  of  the  guard  had  been  making  the  rounds  of  the 
ordnance  and  commissary  storehouses,  and  heard  voices 
out  on  the  prairie  as  of  men  coming  from  town ;  listen 
ing,  he  recognized  those  of  Hogan  and  Shea,  the  latter 
being  Lieutenant  Gleason's  orderly.  They  were  ap 
parently  coming  from  the  direction  of  the  "  house  on 
the  hill,"  as  the  resort  out  by  the  little  prairie  lake, 
previously  described,  was  termed,  and  as  they  were  not 
boisterous  at  all,  though  evidently  "  merry,"  he  had  not 
gone  towards  them,  but,  entering  the  main  gate,  he 
turned  to  the  left  to  go  to  the  guard-house,  and  was 
opposite  the  second  set  of  company  quarters  when  he 
heard  voices  at  Lieutenant  Gleason's,  excited  but  un 
intelligible,  then  the  shot,  a  scream,  and  he  ran  full 
tilt,  not  more  than  two  hundred  yards,  into  the  house 
and  through  the  little  hall  to  the  back  room,  where  a 
light  was  burning.  There  lay  Lieutenant  Gleason  on 
his  face  \v  ith  his  head  to  the  back  door,  which  was  open, 


328  MARION'S  FAITH. 

while  Lieutenant  Ray  was  kneeling  between  the  body 
and  the  back  door.  All  he  said  was,  "  Quick  !  the  man 
who  did  it  ran  out  on  the  prairie  past  the  doctor's/7  and 
the  sergeant  had  pursued,  but  returned  in  a  moment  or 
two,  having  seen  nobody  but  Hogan  and  Shea,  who 
came  running  back  with  him.  Shea  went  for  the  doc 
tor  and  Hogan  to  call  Lieutenant  Blake.  The  corporal 
of  the  guard  then  arrived  with  two  men.  They  sent 
one  for  the  colonel.  Lieutenant  Ray  again  told  them 
to  hunt  the  murderer,  but  they  found  nothing  but  the 
pistol.  When  they  returned  the  second  time  the  col 
onel  and  surgeon  were  there,  but  Mr.  Ray  was  gone. 

Shea's  testimony  was  sensational :  Hogan  had  come  to 
him  about  tattoo,  and  proposed  that  they  should  go  out 
and  have  a  quiet  time  at  the  house  on  the  hill ;  he  had 
plenty  of  money  and  had  already  been  drinking  a  little. 
Shea  went,  but  fearing  Hogan  would  take  too  much  and 
get  into  more  trouble,  had  persuaded  him  to  start  for 
home  about  11.30.  They  came  across  the  prairie  and 
were  talking  pretty  loud,  heard  no  pistol-shot,  or  cry, 
saw  or  heard  no  one  except  the  sergeant,  though  they 
had  come  through  the  gap  between  the  hospital  and 
surgeon's  quarters.  Shea  said  that  he  had  been  Mr. 
Gleason's  "striker"  (soldier-servant)  for  two  years; 
knew  his  character  and  habits  well,  and  knew  there 
was  trouble  between  him  and  Mr.  Ray.  Questioned 
as  to  particulars,  Shea  went  on  to  say  that  there  had 
been  a  "  terrible  row"  between  them  the  day  Mr.  Glea- 
son  started  for  Fetterman ;  he  didn't  know  what  it  was 
about,  but  had  overheard  some  of  the  language  from 
the  back  kitchen,  and  the  last  thing  Lieutenant  Ray 
had  said  was,  " '  If  ever  you  breathe  a  word  of  this  to  a 


IN  CLOSER    TOILS.  329 

soul/  or  something  like  that,  Til  shoot  you  like  a 
dog.7 "  He  was  sure  of  the  last  words,  and  he  thought 
then  he  wouldn't  like  to  be  in  Mr.  Gleason's  place. 
Shea's  words  produced  a  marked  effect ;  but  no  more 
so  than  did  Hogan's,  whom  grief  and  liquor  had  made 
somewhat  maudlin.  Like  every  Irishman  in  the  regi 
ment  he  thought  the  world  of  Ray,  and  it  cut  him  to 
the  heart  to  have  to  testify  against  him ;  but  he  recog 
nized  the  pistol  at  once  as  the  lieutenant's,  and  the  fact 
was  dragged  out  of  him  that  before  tattoo  the  previous 
evening  he  had  gone  to  get  it  and  clean  it,  and  found  it 
was  not  in  the  holster.  He  asked  the  lieutenant  for  it 
and  was  refused.  "  I  want  it"  was  what  the  lieutenant 
had  said. 

Mr.  Blake,  very  calm  and  very  white,  was  brought 
in  next,  and  faced  the  impressive  coroner  and  his  jury. 
He  corroborated  Hogan's  statement  as  to  Ray's  lan 
guage  about  the  pistol ;  said  that  he  had  gone  to  bed 
up-stairs  at  eleven  o'clock,  leaving  Ray  reading  in  the 
room  below,  and  knew  nothing  more  of  the  affair  until 
called  by  Hogan,  when  he  had  run  to  Mr.  Gleason's 
quarters,  and  after  a  moment  had  taken  Ray  home  and 
insisted  on  his  going  to  bed.  The  lieutenant  was  just 
recovering  from  a  severe  illness,  was  weak  and  un 
strung,  and  the  affair  threatened  to  bring  on  a  relapse. 
There  had  been  an  open  breach  between  the  two  officers 
for  over  two  years,  and  of  late,  he  knew  not  how,  it 
had  widened.  The  deceased  frequently  maligned  Lieu 
tenant  Ray,  and  the  latter  never  spoke  of  him  without 
aversion.  Questioned  as  to  his  knowledge  of  anything 
that  occurred  between  them  on  the  day  of  Gleason's 
departure,  he  said  he  knew  nothing.  Ray  had  refused 

28* 


330  MARION'S  FAITH. 

to  talk  on  the  subject.  The  surgeon  had  given  the 
necessary  medical  testimony  as  to  cause, — a  gunshot 
wound  penetrating  the  heart  and  causing  almost  instant 
death.  The  post  commander  told  of  the  charges  against 
Lieutenant  Ray,  and  of  the  fact  that  the  deceased  was 
a  principal  witness — indeed,  an  accuser,  and  that  seemed 
all  that  was  necessary.  The  jury  desired  to  hear  what 
Mr.  Ray  had  to  say,  and  they  questioned  the  doctor  as 
to  his  ability  to  see  them.  The  surgeon  had  replied 
with  professional  gravity  that  so  far  as  he  was  concerned 
he  thought  his  patient  should  not  be  disturbed,  but  that 
the  gentleman  himself  had  insisted  that  no  obstacle 
should  be  thrown  in  their  way  if  they  felt  disposed  to 
examine  him.  Mr.  Ray  was  cool  as  a  cucumber,  though 
fully  aware  by  this  time  of  the  fearful  array  of  evi 
dence  against  him.  Blake  flew  back  to  his  bedside  as 
soon  as  he  heard  that  the  coroner  had  decided  to  ques 
tion  him,  and  with  tears  in  his  eyes  implored  him  to 
say  nothing ;  but  Ray  had  smiled  faintly,  and  held  out 
a  warning  hand, — 

"I've  never  hidden  a  word  or  deed  of  my  life, 
Blake,  and  what  has  to  be  hidden  now  is  for  another's 
sake — not  mine.  Time  enough  for  lawyers  when  the 
case  comes  to  trial.  A  coroner's  jury  can  only  express 
an  opinion.  I  could  not  rest  easy  now  without  the 
vindication  of  a  full  trial." 

And  so  the  coroner  and  his  jury  filed  solemnly  in. 
Ray's  voice  was  placid  and  his  eyes  steadfast  and  true. 
He  was  courtesy  itself  to  the  members  of  the  jury,  and 
all  patience  even  under  the  insinuations  of  the  coroner 
that  made  Blake  furious.  His  story  was  briefly  that 
ne  had  strolled  out  to  his  rear  gate  to  walk  up  and 


IN  CLOSER    TOILS.  331 

down  in  the  yard  a  few  minutes  before  retiring.  (He 
did  not  say  "  To  gaze  at  a  certain  window  up  the  row.") 
Being  in  arrest  he  was  permitted  to  go  no  farther,  and 
just  after  the  sentry's  call  of  half-past  twelve  he  was 
startled  by  hearing  excited  voices  apparently  in  the  rear 
room  of  the  quarters  two  doors  away,  then  a  shot  and 
a  scream ;  he  had  hurried  thither,  and  at  the  back  gate 
of  Gleason's  quarters  a  man  rushed  past  him  on  tiptoe 
and  at  full  speed.  Ray  had  caught  his  arm  an  instant 
but  was  thrown  roughly  aside,  and  the  fugitive  had 
fled  like  a  deer  through  the  open  space  between  the 
hospital  and  surgeon's  quarters.  He  himself  was  weak 
from  recent  illness  and  unable  to  pursue,  but  hurried 
into  the  back  door  of  Gleason's  quarters,  which  was 
open,  through  the  kitchen,  and  there,  lying  on  his  face 
in  the  back  room,  was  the  deceased,  dressed  in  shirt  and 
trousers,  apparently  even  then  dead.  The  sergeant 
came  almost  immediately,  and  soon  Mr.  Blake,  who 
presently  reminded  him  that  he  was  in  arrest  and  had 
no  right  to  be  in  any  quarters  but  his  own,  and  took 
him  home. 

Questioned  as  to  enmity  with  the  deceased,  he  said 
he  had  long  disliked  him,  and  that  of  late  the  feeling 
had  become  intensified.  Questioned  as  to  the  affair  of 
the  day  on  which  the  deceased  had  left  the  post,  he  ad 
mitted  there  had  been  a  violent  scene,  and  that  he  had 
threatened  him.  He  also  admitted  that  the  pistol  was 
his,  but  that  it  had  not  been  in  his  possession  since  the 
day  the  deceased  left  the  post.  Questioned  as  to  the  cause 
of  his  quarrel  and  some  further  matters,  he  spoke  very 
quietly,  as  follows : 

"  These  are  matters,  gentlemen,  that  cannot  influence 


332  MARION'S  FAITH. 

your  decision.  No  statement  of  mine  can  well  coun 
teract  the  chain  of  circumstances  in  this  case.  I  can 
not  tell  you  where  my  pistol  was,  and  I  must  decline 
to  say  one  word  at  present  of  the  cause  of  my  late 
quarrel  with  the  deceased."  In  this  he  was  firm,  and 
what  other  verdict  could  they  arrive  at  ?  The  deceased 
came  to  his  death  by  a  gunshot  wound  inflicted  with 
murderous  intent,  and,  to  the  best  of  their  belief,  by 
the  hand  of  William  P.  Ray,  a  lieutenant  in  the  — th 
Regiment  of  Cavalry,  U.  S.  Army. 

When  they  were  gone  to  their  deliberation  and  Ray 
was  alone  with  his  friend,  he  called  for  a  scrap  of  note- 
paper,  thought  earnestly  a  few  moments,  and  then 
rapidly  wrote  in  pencil  a  few  lines. 

"  Blake,"  he  said,  "  take  this  to  Mrs.  Truscott  and 
give  it  to  her  personally.  There  will  probably  be  no 
answer.  If  you  cannot  see  her,  ask  for  Miss  San- 
ford." 

They  were  all  in  the  parlor,  Mrs.  Stannard,  Mrs. 
Truscott,  and  Miss  Sanford,  when  he  reached  the  house. 
Three  sadder  faces  he  had  never  seen.  The  first  ques 
tion  was  as  to  the  verdict  of  the  coroner's  jury.  Blake 
shook  his  head.  "  It  can  only  be  one  thing."  Indeed, 
was  not  that  what  Mrs.  Whaling  had  been  there  to  tell 
them  already,  with  a  simply  maddening  array  of  em 
bellishments  ? 

Mrs.  Stannard's  blue  eyes  were  red  with  weeping, 
and  Mrs.  Truscott  looked  as  though  she  had  wept  for 
hours.  Indeed,  she  had  been,  long  before  the  shot  was 
fired.  Marion  Sanford  alone  was  quiet  and  composed  ; 
her  eyes  were  clear  as  ever,  though  deep  dark  rings  had 
formed  beneath  them,  and  her  soft  lips  were  set  in  uon- 


7^  CLOSER   TOILS.  333 

stant  effort  to  repress  emotion.  Blake  briefly  told  them 
how  calm  and  brave  Ray  was,  how  he  had  refused  to 
explain  about  the  pistol,  or  to  give  any  particulars  of 
his  quarrel  with  Gleason,  merely  saying  it  had  been 
of  long  standing.  There  were  many  things  that  he, 
Blake,  must  attend  to  at  once,  and  so,  if  they  would 
excuse  him,  he  wished  to  see  Mrs.  Truscott  a  moment, 
and  she  followed  him  to  the  piazza  falteringly. 

"  Ray  told  me  to  give  this  note  to  no  one  but  you, 
Mrs.  Truscott,  and  I  inferred  that  he  wished  you  only 
to  see  it,"  said  he. 

To  his  surprise,  she  drew  back  her  hand.  Her  lips 
began  to  quiver,  her  eyes  to  refill.  She  made  no  effort 
to  take  it.  He  looked  at  her  wonderingly. 

"  Mr.  Blake — I — I  cannot  take  it. .  I  cannot  ex 
plain  !"  And  then,  abruptly  turning,  she  rushed  into 
the  house  and  up  the  stairs. 

Poor  Blake  stood  one  moment  in  dire  perplexity  and 
then  went  back. 

"  She  wouldn't  take  it,  Billy.  She  said  she  couldn't ; 
but  d — n  me  if  I  can  fathom  it." 

Ray's  eyes  grew  stony.  Every  vestige  of  color  left 
his  face.  He  covered  it  with  his  thin  white  hands,  and 
the  man  who  had  braved  death  and  torture  to  save  hib 
comrades,  who  had  borne  uncomplainingly,  resolutely, 
patiently,  the  trying  ordeal  of  his  examination  by  a 
gang  of  suspicious  men,  who  had  suffered  in  silence  the 
ignominy  of  a  criminal  charge  rather  than  drag  to  light 
a  defence  that  might  involve  a  woman's  name,  now 
quivered  and  shuddered  and  turned  to  the  wall  with 
one  low  moan  of  agony,  cut  to  the  heart  by  the  fragile 
hand  he  would  have  died  to  shield. 


334  MARION'S  FAITH. 

CHAPTER  XXIV. 

THE   GKASP   OF   THE   LAW. 

To  a  man  of  Mr.  Blake's  temperament  the  next  few 
days  were  hard  to  bear.  He  was  worried  half  to  death, 
and  yet,  when  Mrs.  Turner  saw  an  opportunity,  and 
with  a  suggestive  glance  at  his  lean  legs,  sympatheti 
cally  inquired  "if  he  wasn't  afraid  he'd  lose  all  his 
flesh,"  he  was  fully  able  to  appreciate  the  feminine 
dexterity  and  malice  of  the  allusion.  His  quick  wit 
could  have  suggested  a  deserved  repartee ;  but  even  in 
his  misery  Blake  would  say  no  wounding  word  to  a 
lady  of  the  regiment.  He  had  good  reason  to  take 
very  little  comfort  in  her,  however,  as  an  exponent  of 
the  regimental  feeling  on  which  the  — th  had  prided 
itself.  Mrs.  Turner  was  far  too  voluble  on  the  subject 
of  the  awful  disgrace  that  had  been  brought  on  their 
good  name  by  this  fearful  tragedy,  and  while  she  hoped 
<ind  prayed  Mr.  Ray  might  be  innocent,  it  was  evident 
that  she  was  far  from  believing  it  a  possibility.  Just 
now  her  time  was  taken  up  with  Mrs.  Whaling  and 
the  infantry  officers,  for  there  was  a  blockade  at  num 
ber  11.  The  ladies  had  twice  asked  to  be  excused  when 
Mrs.  Whaling  and  Mrs.  Turner  called.  Mrs.  Trus- 
cott  was  feeling  unable  to  see  any  one,  said  the  servant, 
but  Mrs.  Stannard  was  with  her. 

But  Blake  had  expected  nothing  better  of  Mrs.  Tur 
ner,  and  attached  little  importance  to  her  opinion. 


THE   GRASP  OF  THE  LAW.  335 

What  had  stung  him  to  the  quick  was  the  sight  of 
Ray's  suffering  when  that  note  came  back  to  him  re 
fused.  He  was  amazed  at  Mrs.  Truscott,  for  to  his 
masculine  mind  and  to  Kay's  worn  and  wearied  senses 
only  one  construction  of  her  conduct  was  apparent, — 
she  believed  him  guilty,  and  shrank  from  his  note  as 
she  would  from  his  blood-stained  hand.  Of  that  deso 
late  night  neither  he  nor  Ray  could  ever  be  brought  to 
speak  thereafter.  Blake  sat  for  hours  by  the  bedside 
of  his  stricken  friend  listening  in  helpless  misery  and 
wrath  to  the  occasional  changing  of  the  sentries,  and 
watching,  as  a  sorrowing  mother  might  watch,  Ray's 
wordless  suffering.  Most  of  the  night  he  lay  with  his 
face  buried  in  his  arms ;  but  Blake  could  see  by  the 
clinching  hand,  the  shudders  that  often  shook  his  frame, 
the  constant,  nervous  tapping  of  his  foot  beneath  the 
coverlet,  that  he  was  wide  awake, — alive  to  all  his  sor 
rows.  The  doctor  had  come  and  prescribed  sedatives, 
and  promised  to  come  again  if  he  did  not  sleep.  Ray 
had  silently  taken  the  medicine,  and  for  one  instant 
Blake  had  caught  sight  of  the  face  that  was  now  deai 
to  him  as  any  brother's.  He  threw  himself  on  his 
knees  and  tried  to  draw  the  hands  away  as  Ray  once 
again  turned  to  the  wal-1. 

"For  God's  sake,  Billy,"  he  wellnigh  sobbed, 
"  don't  turn  from  me  so  !  There  ain't  a  man  in  all 
the  — th  could  believe  it  of  you.  What  need  you  care 
for  what  a  nervous  woman  thinks  ?" 

But  Ray  only  pressed  his  hand  a  moment,  and  simply 
said, — 

"  I'll  come  round  all  right — after  a  while.  Don't 
worry,  old  fellow." 


336  MARION'S  FAITH. 

But  he  hadn't  "  oome  round."  At  midnight  Blake 
decided  he  must  have  a  drink,  and  he  offered  Ray  some 
whiskey,  thinking  to  benefit  him  in  some  way.  Ray 
heard,  and  said  nothing,  but  put  out  his  hand  and 
gently  pushed  it  away,  shaking  his  head,  and  this 
capped  the  climax  of  Blake's  perplexity.  At  one 
o'clock,  seeing  that  Ray  was  still  wide  awake,  he  had 
decided  to  go  and  fetch  the  doctor.  He  was  fearful  of 
the  effect  of  this  long  mental  strain,  but  Ray  seemed 
to  divine  his  thoughts,  and  in  a  voice  so  soft  and 
patient  as  to  melt  Blake's  raging  into  tears,  he  begged 
him  not  to  disturb  any  one.  "  I've  got  you,  Blake ; 
what  do  I  want  of  a  doctor  ?" 

Along  towards  morning  Blake  dragged  in  his  buffalo- 
robes,  and  spreading  them  on  the  floor  by  the  bedside, 
soon  dropped  into  a  sleep  of  utter  exhaustion.  When 
he  awoke  Ray  was  standing  at  the  window,  cleanly 
shaved,  dressed  in  his  newest  and  neatest  undress  uni 
form,  and  listening  calmly  to  Mr.  Warner,  who,  in  a 
voice  plainly  showing  his  agitation,  was  saying  some 
thing  that  brought  Blake  to  his  feet  with  a  single 
bound.  A  warrant  had  been  issued  as  the  natural  re 
sult  of  the  inquest,  the  officers  of  the  law  had  come 
out  from  town,  and  it  was  the  commanding  officer's 
order  that  he  be  turned  over  to  the  custody  of  the  civil 
authorities. 

Blake  would  have  burst  into  a  fury  of  invective  and 
denunciation,  but  Ray's  hand  restrained  him.  Still 
weak  from  his  unhealed  wound,  from  recent  illness, 
from  mental  agitation  and  sleeplessness,  Blake  thought 
he  never  saw  Ray  so  brave,  so  strong,  as  when  he  made 
his  reply. 


THE  GRASP  OF  THE  LAW.  337 

"  It  was  my  expectation  to  see  the  commanding  officer 
this  morning,  Mr.  Warner,  as  my  dress  indicates. 
Since  he  remands  me  to  the  charge  of  the  civil  authori 
ties,  what  I  had  to  say  to  him  must  be  said  to  them.  I 
shall  be  ready  as  soon  as  I  can  change  to  civilian 
dress." 

And  so,  with  only  Blake  to  help  stow  away  the  few 
books  and  papers  he  desired  to  lock  in  his  trunk, — for 
even  faithful  Hogan  had  been  forbidden  to  enter  the 
room, — Ray  quietly  made  his  preparations,  and  in  a 
few  minutes  stood  arrayed  in  a  business  suit  that  had 
been  made  for  him  years  before,  and  was  decidedly  out 
of  fashion.  A  carriage  had  driven  to  his  door,  and 
two  heavily-built  men  were  lounging  at  the  gate.  Blake, 
wild  with  nervousness  and  wrath,  was  making  slow 
progress  with  his  dressing,  and  Ray  took  from  him  the 
little  hand-bag  he  was  bunglingly  striving  to  pack. 

"  I'll  do  this,  Blake.  You  go  on  with  your  dressing. 
Of  course  I  understand  you  mean  to  go  in  with  me ; 
but  now  let  me  say  a  word.  I  have  had  plenty  of 
time  to  think,  and  this  is  just  what  I  want,  what  I 
must  have.  Nothing  short  of  a  full  trial  can  satisfy 
me  now ;  and  as  for  being  handed  over  to  the  civil  au 
thorities, — well,  is  it  any  worse  than  what  I  have  had 
to  bear  here  f 

"  By  heaven !  but  there'll  come  a  day  of  reckoning 
for  that  cold-blooded,  soulless,  bowelless,  old  block  in 
the  headquarters  office.  Just  think  of  the  kicking 
he'll  get  when  the  — th  comes  home !  But,  Ray,  what 
I'm  worried  about  is  this, — bail,  you  know.  You 
can't  stay  there  in  jail,  and  I  don't  know  any  of  these 

local  plutocrats " 

p       w  29 


338  MARIOWS  FAITH. 

"  I've  thought  of  all  that.  You  are  to  ask  no  one. 
If  I  were  out  on  bail  I  would  have  to  come  back  here, 
and  in  all  the  world  there  is  no  spot  where  I  have 
known  such  misery.  I  prefer  the  jail  at  Cheyenne  to 
such  freedom  as  this  has  been  at  Russell.  In  a  few 
days  my  sister  will  reach  me,  and  then  we'll  see.  Now 
hurry,  I  want  to  get  away  before  guard-mounting." 

In  a  few  minutes  Blake  was  ready,  and  Ray  told  him 
to  cajl  in  the  officers.  They  entered  the  room,  and  the 
first  one,  as  he  did  so,  by  an  instinct  which  he  could 
not  himself  explain,  took  off  his  hat  as  he  caught  sight 
of  Ray  standing  quietly  at  the  window ;  his  followers, 
though  evidently  unused  to  such  a  display,  followed 
suit.  The  leader  began  to  read  his  warrant,  but  Ray 
raised  his  hand  and  smilingly  checked  him. 

"  Never  mind  it,  my  friend ;  it  is  all  in  due  form,  no 
doubt*  You  brought  handcuffs,  I  suppose  ?" 

And  the  man  was  already  fumbling  in  his  left  pocket 
for  them.  Ray  went  on  in  the  same  quiet  tone, — 

"  You  won't  need  them,  so  keep  them  in  your  pocket. 
I  am  glad  to  go  with  you  now  if  you  are  ready." 

And  the  officer,  who,  like  every  man  in  Cheyenne, 
had  heard  all  about  the  night  ride  that  saved  Wayne's 
command,  and  respected  the  "  young  feller"  that  made 
it,  was  glad  to  find  an  awkward  question  put  out  of  his 
way.  He  had  reddened  with  embarrassment,  but  was 
grateful  to  Ray  for  taking  the  trouble  off  his  mind. 
As  they  left  the  house,  and  poor  Hogan,  looking  over 
the  banisters  up-stairs,  broke  into  an  Irish  wail  of 
grief,  and  the  corporal  of  the  guard  instinctively 
brought  his  left  hand  up  to  the  shoulder  in  a  salute 
that  made  his  musket  ring,  a  casual  observer  would 


THE  GRASP  OF  THE  LAW.  339 

have  said  that  Mr.  Ray  was  showing  his  visitors  to 
their  carriage.  The  door  shut  with  a  snap,  the  horses 
started  with  a  crack  of  the  whip,  and  in  another  moment 
the  silent  quartette  were  whirled  away  through  the  east 
gate  before  anybody  "  up  the  row"  was  fully  aware  of 
what  was  going  on. 

Meantime,  there  had  been  a  night  of  misery  else 
where  in  the  garrison.  Mrs.  Stannard  had  asked  per 
mission  of  the  officer  of  the  day  to  go  to  Ray  with  the 
doctor  at  nine  o'clock ;  the  officer  of  the  day  said  he 
would  go  and  see  the  colonel  and  let  her  know.  He 
went,  but  did  not  return.  At  ten  o'clock  Mrs.  Stan 
nard  wrote  a  note  to  the  colonel,  and  that  punctilious 
soldier  replied  through  his  adjutant  at  half-past  ten. 
He  was  very  sorry,  but  for  several  reasons  he  was  com 
pelled  to  refuse  all  applications  to  see  Mr.  Ray  until 
the  morrow.  Mrs.  Stannard  in  her  indignation  could 
hardly  find  words  to  thank  Mr.  Warner  for  the  cour 
tesy  he  personally  displayed  in  the  matter.  She  sent 
a  servant  to  the  corporal  of  the  guard  to  ask  him  to 
say  to  Mr.  Blake  that  she  desired  earnestly  to  see  him 
a  moment ;  the  corporal  said  he  would  as  soon  as  he  had 
posted  the  next  sentry  ;  but  he  forgot  it  until  long  after 
eleven,  owing  to  an  excitement  over  in  the  band  quar 
ters,  and  then  Blake  thought  it  best  to  wait  until  morn 
ing,  and  so  it  happened  that  one  woman  whose  heart 
was  full  of  faith  in  and  sympathy  for  Ray  was  balked 
of  her  desire  to  send  him  full  assurance  of  her  thought 
for  him.  She  could  not  sleep,  however,  and  at  mid 
night  walked  alone  down  the  row  and  asked  the  soldier 
at  the  gate  to  give  this  little  note  for  Ray  to  the  sentinel 
within,  but  the  man  came  sadly  and  respectfully  back. 


340  MARION'S  FAITH. 

The  sentry  dare  not  pass  it  in :  it  was  against  his  orders. 
She  looked  wistfully  at  the  dim  light  showing  through 
the  curtains  of  the  front  room,  but  turned  wearily 
away.  A  dim  light  was  burning,  too,  in  Mrs.  Trus- 
cott's  room  up  the  row,  and  she  tapped  softly  at  the 
door,  thinking  that,  like  herself,  they  might  be  still 
awake ;  but  no  answer  came,  and,  at  last,  she  went  to 
her  own  lonely  quarters.  Oh,  how  she  longed  for  her 
brave,  blunt,  outspoken  Luce  that  night !  He  could 
find  a  way  of  helping  Ray,  and  ^tould  do  it  despite  all 
the  official  trammels  that  the  post  commander  could 
devise.  She  was  sick  at  heart,  but  next  door  lay  a 
woman  whose  unrest  was  greater  still,  whose  trouble 
seemed  more  than  she  could  bear.  Mrs.  Truscott  had 
arrived  at  the  conclusion  before  ten  o'clock  that  night 
that  she  was  the  most  miserable  woman  on  the  face  of 
the  globe. 

Jack's  letter  arriving  the  day  previous  was  as  kind, 
as  well  expressed,  and  as  thoughtful  a  screed  as  ever 
mortal  husband  penned,  but,  being  like  other  husbands, 
only  mortal,  he  had  failed  to  bring  about  the  exact 
effect  which  was  intended.  Whether  this  was  his  fault 
or  hers  could  not  be  determined  entirely  by  an  inspec 
tion  of  a  copy  of  the  letter,  since  letters  may  be  read 
with  a  thousand  different  inflections,  and  the  most  pas 
sionate  heart-offering  be  made  to  sound  like  a  torrent 
of  sarcasm.  Perhaps  it  is  neither  here  nor  there  whose 
fault  it  was.  Grace  read  the  letter  with  burning  self- 
reproach.  It  was  the  second  time  he  had  had  reason 
to  find  fault  with  her.  True,  she  had  acted  as  she  sup 
posed  for  the  best,  and  after  consultation  with  Mrs. 
Stannard.  Mrs.  Stannard's  letter  was  to  go  by  the  next 


THE  GRASP  OF  THE  LAW.  341 

mail  and  explain  the  whole  thing  to  the  major,  who,  if 
he  deemed  advisable,  would  carry  everything  to  Trus- 
cott ;  but,  as  we  have  seen,  that  explanatory  letter  had 
never  reached  the  regiment.  It,  with  bags  full  of  other 
letters,  was  lying  in  the  wagons  at  Goose  Creek,  while 
the  — th  was  on  the  chase  away  to  the  Yellowstone,  and 
Grace  had  the  misery  of  believing  that  Jack's  last 
thought  of  her  as  he  rode  off  to  battle  was  that  she  had 
had  some  sentimental  scene  with  Ray,  had  been  sur 
prised  in  the  midst  of  it,  and  had  concealed  it  from 
him.  She  had  spent  a  distracted  afternoon,  had  written 
Jack  page  after  page,  in  which  amid  tears  and  kisses 
she  had  recorded  her  determination  never  to  let  another 
man  see  her  alone  an  instant,  never  to  receive  a  note  of 
any  kind  from  Ray  or  anybody  else,  never  to  speak  to 
a  man  if  she  could  help  it ;  she  hated  them  all, — all  but 
one,  whom  she  had  wronged  and  deceived,  and  whom 
fihe  adored  and  worshipped  now,  and  heaven  only 
knows  what  all !  She  felt  comforted  somehow  when 
she  had  slipped  that  letter  into  the  box  at  the  adjutant's 
office  late  that  night,  and  had  gone  so  soundly  asleep 
that  she  might  not  have  known  of  the  murder  until 
morning  but  for  Marion.  And  then,  that  next  after 
noon, — that  very  next  afternoon,  after  she  had  written 
all  her  impulsive,  wifelike,  loving  promises  to  Jack, 
what  should  come  but  a  note  from  Ray  to  be  delivered 
privately  to  her.  Let  any  young  wife  of  less  than  a 
year's  disenchantment  put  herself  in  Mrs.  Truscott's 
place  and  say  what  she  would  have  done.  Of  course, 
dear  madam,  I  hear  you  say,  vous  autreSj  "  She  needn't 
have  made  such  a  fool  of  herself!  She  might  have 
explained  or — something !"  I  quite  agree  with  you. 

29* 


342  MARION'S  FAITH. 

That  is  what  all  of  us  think  who  have  survived  the 
delirium  of  the  honeymoon,  that  mielle  de  la  lune-acy 
which  all  of  us  must  encounter  as  our  children  do  the 
measles ;  but,  you  see,  Mrs.  Truscott  was  not  yet 
through  with  it,  and  what  is  more,  I  have  heard  you 
remark  on  several  occasions  that  she  was  an  awfully 
weak  sort  of  a  heroine  and  would  make  Jack  wretched 
yet.  Bless  your  womanly  hearts  !  I  never  pretended 
that  she  was  a  Zenobia,  or  a  Jeanne  la  Pucelle,  or  a 
Susan  B.  Anthony.  She  was  absurd,  if  you  will,  but 
she  was  utterly  in  love  with  her  husband,  as  Mrs.  Turner 
said,  and  thought  far  more  of  him  than  the  rest  of  man 
kind  put  together,  which  is  more  than  some  of  you  can 
say,  though  I'm  bound  to  admit  that  she  had  better  reason 
than  most  of  you,  placens  uxor  mea  frankly  included. 

She  had  rushed  up-stairs  for  a  fresh  burst  of  tears, 
and  presently  Marion,  all  love  and  sympathy,  came  txr 
see  her,  and  the  result  of  that  interview  complicated 
matters  in  a  way  that  baffles  description.  So  far  from 
upholding  her  course,  Miss  Sanford  had  looked  first 
grave,  then  frightened,  then  indignant.  In  plain  words 
she  told  her  that  at  such  a  time,  when  the  man  who 
had  saved  her  life, — saved  her  honor, — showed  himself 
her  best  friend,  her  husband's  best  friend,  stood  charged 
with  a  foul  crime  of  which  she  well  knew  him  to  be 
guiltless,  and  had  sent  her  a  simple  note  that  could 
have  no  possible  purpose  other  than  to  say  that  now,  at 
last,  he  might,  to  save  his  own  name,  have  to  tell  of 
Gleason's  fiendish  conduct  towards  her — to  refuse  it,  to 
send  it  back — "  Oh,  Grace,  Grace,  you  don't  mean  you 
could  have  done  that !  Oh,  it  was  monstrous  !  it  was 
Bhameful !" 


THE  GRASP  OF  THE  LAW.  343 

And  Marion  Sanford  had  rushed  into  her  own  room, 
banged — yes,  banged  the  door,  locked  it,  put  a  chair 
against  it,  would  have  moved  the  washstand  up  against 
it,  but  her  strength  gave  out,  and  she  hurled  herself 
upon  the  bed  in  a  tempest  of  passionate  tears. 

Ah,  well !  even  now — ten  years  after — it  is  no  easy 
thing  to  write  or  tell  of  those  days.  It  was  part  of 
our  purpose  to  go  around  the  garrison  and  show  how 
other  people  looked  at  the  matter,  but  it  may  be  as  well 
to  say  that,  except  Blake,  Warner,  and  the  surgeon,  every 
officer  thought  Ray  guilty.  So,  too,  did  most  of  the 
men  except  over  in  the  band  quarters,  where  there  was 
the  excitement  that  night.  It  was  caused  by  the  snare 
drummer,  a  pugnacious  young  Celt,  who  burst  in  upon 
his  comrades  at  eleven  o'clock  with  a  loud  defiance  of 
"  doughboy"  justice,  and  an  oath  that  he  know'd  the 
man  as  shot  Gleason  and  suspicioned  Ray,  and  he'd 
have  him  at  the  gallows  yet. 

Reporters  and  special  correspondents  had  been  at  the 
fort  interviewing  everybody  who  would  talk  and,  after 
the  manner  of  their  kind,  making  the  dumb  speak  in  a 
way  that  would  put  to  the  blush  the  miracles  of  holy 
writ.  There  seemed  but  one  theory  among  those  in 
authority, — that  Ray  was  guilty.  This  was  duly  her 
alded  to  an  eager  public,  and  the  evening  extra  and  the 
morning  journals  in  columns  of  detail  had  prepared 
all  minds  for  the  culprit's  coming.  A  crowd  that 
blocked  the  street  had  gathered  in  front  of  the  building 
in  which  were  located  the  offices  of  the  marshal,  the 
sheriff,  and  other  legal  magnates,  and  Ray's  pale,  sad 
face  looked  out  upon  a  host  of  curious  eyes,  in  which 
his  own,  brave  and  unflinching,  caught  not  one  gleam 


344  MARION'S  FAITH. 

of  sympathy.  Deadwood  Dick,  a  ruffian  who  had 
murdered  a  soldier  for  his  money,  went  in  through  that 
door-way  a  fortnight  before  amid  many  shouts  of  en 
couragement  and  the  buoyant  reflection  that  no  local 
jury  had  yet  found  a  verdict  of  guilty  against  a  citizen 
of  Wyoming  where  the  offence  committed  was  against 
the  peace  or  property  of  Uncle  Sam.  But  a  jury  that 
would  triumphantly  acquit  the  self-styled  "  Scourge  of 
Sandy  Bottom"  on  the  ground  of  temporary  insanity 
would  be  apt  to  look  less  leniently  upon  one  of  those 
swells  at  the  fort.  Had  there  been  a  man  to  raise  the 
d  la  lanterne  of  rejoicing  democracy, — had  not  the 
murdered  man  been  himself  one  of  the  official  class, 
Blake  and  his  revolver  would  probably  have  stood 
alone  between  the  accused  and  lynching.  As  it  wras, 
but  for  the  one  faithful  comrade  of  all  who  had  loved 
and  believed  in  him,  realizing  it  all,  yet  calm,  sad,  and 
self-possessed,  Hay  stood  at  the  bar  of  justice  practically 
friendless. 

It  was  early  when  Mrs.  Stannard  came  down  from 
her  room  after  an  almost  sleepless  night.  First  call 
for  guard-mounting  was  just  sounding  as  she  stepped 
out  on  the  piazza  and  noted  little  knots  of  men  here 
and  there,  all  gazing  intently  towards  the  east  gate, 
where  the  dust  as  of  a  recently  passing  vehicle  was 
settling  back  to  earth.  She  opened  Mrs.  Truscott's 
door,  and  saw  Marion  San  ford  slowly  descending  the 
stairs,  her  face  very  white  and  wan.  Out  in  the  dining- 
room  could  be  heard  voluble  voices,  weeping,  and  Irish 
expletives  of  mingled  wrath  and  grief, — and  then,  with 
eyes  dilating  with  horror,  with  streaming  hair,  with 
pallid  lips  and  a  ghastly  look  in  her  white  face,  Grace 


WHOSE   GAUNTLET?  345 

Truscott,  clad  in  a  morning  wrapper,  came  rushing 
through  the  little  parlor  into  the  hall,  gave  one  glance 
at  her  girl  friend,  and  then,  stretching  forth  her  arms, 
she  cried, — 

"  Oh,  Maidie,  Maidie  !  It's  all  my  doing.  They — 
they've  ca-carried  him  off  to  jail  !" 

And  then  prone  upon  the  stairs  she  threw  herself, 
burying  her  face  from  sight  of  all. 


CHAPTER    XXV. 

WHOSE    GAUNTLET? 

THE  duty  of  assorting  the  papers  and  caring  for  the 
property  of  the  late  officer  had  devolved  upon  Lieu 
tenant  Warner.  Telegrams  from  relatives  in  the  dis 
tant  East  had  requested  that  the  remains  be  sent  thither 
by  express  for  burial,  and  only  a  few  hours  after  the 
accused  murderer  was  taken  into  custody  the  body  of 
the  victim  of  the  midnight  assassination  had  been  turned 
over  to  the  undertaker  in  town  for  necessary  prepara 
tions.  The  garrison  seemed  still  paralyzed  by  the  shock, 
and  except  the  sentries  at  the  storehouses  and  stables, 
there  was  little  appearance  of  military  duty  going  on. 
Guard-mounting  was  conducted  without  music,  and  the 
customary  drills  of  the  recruits  were  out  of  sight.  It 
was  an  atmosphere  of  gloom  that  pervaded  the  garri 
son,  and  only  one  of  its  ladies  had  been  seen  on  the 
promenade  for  two  days.  Mrs.  Whaling,  like  some 


346  MARION'S  FAITH. 

human  fungus,  seemed  to  thrive  in  the  pall-like  depth 
of  the  social  darkness  and  depression.  She  circled  from 
house  to  house,  and  swooped  down  upon  the  inmates, 
flapping  and  croaking  the  old  story  of  woe  and  fore 
boding;  or,  what  was  welcome  in  comparison,  some 
new  tale  of  further  entanglement  for  Ray.  Judging 
from  that  righteous  lady's  conversation,  there  seemed 
no  doubt  that  she  and  the  Omnipotent  Judge  had  set 
tled  it  between  them  just  when  he  was  to  be  hanged. 
She  was  one  of  the  first  to.  receive  and  to  enlighten  with 
her  views  a  serious  young  man  who  came  from  Denver 
with  a  letter  to  the  commanding  officer,  and  brought 
with  him  a  prominent  and  rising  attorney  from  Chey 
enne.  These  gentlemen  seemed  a  trifle  disconcerted  at 
the  fact  that  the  few  questions  they  addressed  to  the 
colonel  were  promptly  answered  by  his  wife,  and  when 
one  of  them  finally  looked  at  the  other  and  remarked 
that  it  was  time  to  go  and  examine  the  premises  and 
the  effects,  the  bearer  of  the  letter  not  unnaturally  hes 
itated  and  coughed  dubiously, — he  did  not  know 
whether  to  ask  permission  of  the  officer  or  the  lady. 
They  declined  her  invitation  to  have  a  cup  of  tea  and 
some  luncheon,  saying  they  had  dined  in  town,  and  the 
colonel  said  he  would  walk  down  with  them.  Only 
Mr.  Warner  had  been  allowed  in  the  quarters  since  the 
inquest. 

They  had  gone  but  a  few  steps  along  the  walk  when 
a  hack  drove  up,  and  Mr.  Blake,  catching  sight  of 
them  from  its  interior,  shouted  to  the  driver,  sprang 
out,  and,  stiffly  saluting  the  commanding  officer,  handed 
the  lawyer  a  batch  of  telegraphic  despatches,  and,  tak 
ing  the  little  man  from  Denver  to  one  side,  said  a  few 


WHOSE   GAUNTLET?  347 

words  to  him  in  a  whisper,  then  turned,  and  was  walk 
ing  away,  when  the  colonel  concluded  it  time  to  assert 
himself. 

"Mr.  Blake  !"  he  called. 

"  Sir,"  said  Blake,  facing  him  but  coming  no  nearer. 

"  You  appear  to  have  been  in  town,  sir.  Had  you 
permission  to  leave  the  post  ?" 

"  I  did  not  think  to  ask,  sir.  As  the  only  friend 
Mr.  Ray  appeared  to  have  in  this  garrison  I  went  with 
him  to  jail." 

"  You  will  think,  hereafter,  and  not  presume  to  go 
without  my  consent." 

"  Then  I  take  this  opportunity  to  ask  permission, 
colonel ;  I  desire  to  return  to  my  friend  this  afternoon, 
-  —in  ten  minutes  in  fact." 

"  The  post  regulations,  sir,  require  that  such  appli 
cations  should  be  made  at  my  office  between  nine  and 
ten  A.M.  I  am  not  disposed  to  consider  them  at  other 
times,  especially  where  gentlemen  absent  themselves 
without  authority."  And  he  turned  majestically  away. 

"  Am  I  to  understand,  colonel,  that  you  refuse  me 
permission  to  return  to  Mr.  Ray  in  such  an  emergency 
as  this?"  choked  Blake. 

"  I  will  consider  it,  sir.  I  will  take  it  into — ahem  ! 
— consideration  when  I  have  finished  other  matters. 
Now,  gentlemen,  we  will  proceed."  And  so,  having  es 
tablished  the  fact  that  after  all  he  was  the  post  com 
mander,  and  laid  the  ghost  of  their  lingering  doubt, 
Colonel  Whaling  led  on  down  the  row  with  the  duly 
reassured  civilians,  and  Blake,  too  much  saddened  by 
recent  events  to  feel  the  wrath  that  at  other  times  would 
have  overpowered  him,  contented  himself  with  glaring 


348  MARION'S  FAITH. 

after  his  chief  a  moment,  ejaculating,  "  The  bloodless 
old  mummy !"  and  then  turning  on  his  heel,  he  went 
to  his  lonely  quarters. 

The  lawyer  read  the  despatches,  handed  them  to  his 
Denver  friend,  pointing  significantly  to  a  clause  in  one 
of  them,  and  the  colonel  felt  himself  omitted  from  their 
confidences.  The  sentry  at  the  door  of  the  quarters 
lately  occupied  by  Mr.  Gleason  presented  arms  to  the 
post  commander  and  looked  inquiringly  at  the  civilians. 
"  You  may  admit  these  two  gentlemen,"  he  said,  "  and 
pass  them  in  and  out,  but  no  one  else  except  the  adju 
tant.  Is  he  here  now  ?" 

Mr.  Warner's  voice  from  within  answered  yes,  and 
the  party  entered.  The  adjutant  was  seated  at  a  table 
in  the  front  room  with  a  pile  of  envelopes  and  letters 
before  him.  He  rose  as  they  entered. 

"Mr.  Warner,"  said  the  colonel,  "this  gentleman 
is  sent  here  from  Denver  under  telegraphic  request 
from  department  headquarters.  They  failed  to  notify 
me  of  such  intention,"  he  added,  in  a  tone  of  official 
grievance,  "but  I  presume  it  is  all  right.  He  is  a 
member  of  the  Mountain  Detective  force,  and  desires 
to  make  full  inspection  of  the  premises.  I  presume 
you  can  confer  with  him  and  with  Mr. — a — Green." 

He  lingered  a  moment  as  though  in  expectation  of 
an  invitation  to  remain,  but  none  came. 

Blake  meantime  had  been  searching  about  Ray's 
room.  He  ransacked  through  an  old  valise  that  lay 
under  the  camp-bed,  tossing  diaries,  scouting  books, 
itineraries,  rough  field  maps  and  sketches  out  on  the 
floor,  until  he  came  to  a  package  marked  "  Mem.  Re 
ceipts."  This  he  glanced  through,  gave  it  a  satisfied 


WHOSE   GAUNTLET?  349 

slap,  and  stowed  it  in  a  portable  writing-desk,  replaced 
in  the  valise  the  disturbed  items,  and  then  went  on 
packing  some  changes  of  underclothing  and  linen  in 
Ray's  little  trunk.  Twice  he  called  for  Hogan,  but 
the  shouts  were  unanswered.  He  went  to  the  door  to 
summon  the  hack-driver  to  take  the  trunk,  and  the 
man  said  that  a  lady  had  just  stepped  down  to  ask  if 
he  would  come  up  there  to  number  eleven  when  he  could 
find  time.  Looking  thither,  he  saw  Mrs.  Stannard  at 
the  open  door  of  Truscott's  quarters,  and  went  at  once. 
Her  voice  trembled  so  that  she  could  hardly  ask  for 
Ray. 

"  He  is  just  what  those  who  know  him  would  expect 
him  to  be,  Mrs.  Stannard,  calm  and  resolute.  I  never 
saw  a  man  appear  to  better  advantage  than  he  did  be 
fore  the  officials  there  in  town.  I  never  knew  how 
much  there  was  in  him  until  to-day.  Mr.  Green  ten 
dered  his  legal  services  and  had  a  short  talk  with  him, 
and  he's  out  here  now ;  so  is  a  detective  from  Denver, 
and  Colonel  Rand  will  get  here  from  department  head 
quarters  to-morrow.  Oh,  we  shan't  be  without  friends, 
though  it  did  look  mighty  like  it  at  first." 

"  But  what  about  bail,  Mr.  Blake  ?  How  soon  can 
he — will  he  return  here  ?" 

"  He  desires  no  bail,  Mrs.  Stannard ;  jail  is  prefer 
able  to  Fort  Russell  so  far  as  his  treatment  is  concerned," 
he  said,  indignantly.  "  You  seem  to  be  the  only  friend 
he  has." 

Mrs.  Stannard  flushed  and  lowered  her  voice. 

"  Did  you  explain  to  him,  or  rather  did  he  ask  why 
Mrs.  Truscott  could  not  receive  his  letter  ?" 

"  What  was  there  to  explain  ?     What  was  there  to 

30 


350  MARION'S  FAITH. 

ask  ?"  he  broke  forth  in  wrath.  "  Only  one  explana 
tion  was  possible,  and  of  course  I  would  not  speak  of 
it.  What  could  any  one  think  but  that  she  believed 
him  guilty,  and  would  have  no  communication  with 
him  ?" 

That  was  a  shot  that  told.  Before  Mrs.  Stannard 
could  reply  there  was  a  rustle  of  skirts  and  a  stifled 
sob  within  the  hall-way,  a  rush  of  light  footsteps  up 
the  stairs,  but  the  door  opened  and  Marion  Sanford 
appeared.  Blake  started  to  see  how  white  and  wan  and 
sad  she  looked,  but  she  came  straight  to  him. 

"  Good-morning,  Mr.  Blake  ;  we  were  coming  out  to 
see  you  as  you  spoke,  Mrs.  Truscott  and  I.  We  do 
not  wonder  that  you  and  Mr.  Ray  should  feel  as  you 
do,  but  that  was  all  a  piteous  mistake  about  that  letter 
last  night,77  She  held  forth  her  soft  white  hand.  "Shake 
hands,  Mr.  Blake.  It  wasn't  at  all  what  you  thought ; 
it  was  a  very,  very  different  reason,  and  he  will  forgive 
when  he  knows.  You  brought  a  note  from  him  last 
night,  Will  you  take  this  to  him  from  me  ?" 

"  Let  me  run  in  and  see  Mrs.  Truscott  a  moment," 
said  Mrs.  Stannard  at  this  juncture,  and  hurried  into 
the  hall,  leaving  them  alone  on  the  piazza. 

Blake  noted  the  dark  circles  under  her  pleading  eyes ; 
he  saw  plainly  the  evidences  of  anxiety  and  sorrow ; 
he  could  not  but  see  that,  despite  the  resolution  of  her 
words  and  manner,  her  voice  was  tremulous,  and  the 
brave  eyes  that  looked  unflinchingly  into  his  were  fill 
ing  with  tears  she  could  not  repress.  He  recalled  all 
her  enthusiasm  in  that  still  uncompleted  purchase  of 
Dandy,  in  her  munificence  to  Hogan.  He  knew  well  that 
no  matter  how  he  might  have  misjudged  Mrs.  Trus- 


WHOSE  GAUNTLET?  351 

cott's  motives  he  had  no  right  or  reason,  whatever,  in 
letting  himself  think  that  this  brave,  glorious,  loyal 
girl  could  have  been  shaken  one  instant  in  her  faith  in 
his  friend.  Why,  even  Ray  had  checked  him  sternly 
when,  during  the  night,  he  had  once  burst  forth  in  an 
impetuous  tirade  against  the  worthlessness  of  a  woman's 
faith,  and  now  he  could  have  kicked  himself  had  it 
been  anatomically  possible  even  for  his  marvellous 
length  and  loose-jointedness  of  leg.  In  default  thereof 
he  would  have  dropped  on  his  knee;  but  somebody, 
several  somebodies,  watched  the  interesting  interview 
from  a  distance.  He  bowed  over  the  extended  hand 
as  a  courtier  might  over  that  of  a  queen ;  he  wished 
he  dare  kiss  it  on  the  same — on  any  basis,  but  he  took 
it  warmly. 

"  Forgive  me  for  every  word,  Miss  Sanford ;  but 
IVe  been  sore  tried  of  late." 

"  I  would  be  less  apt  to  forgive  you  if  you  did  not 
resent  every  suspicion  of  Mr.  Ray.  It  is  too  late  to 
undo  last  night's  wretched  work,  or  the  misery  it  caused 
us.  I  have  tried  to  explain  it  all  for  Mrs.  Truscott, 
but  what  I  want  now  is  to  know  what  he  needs.  Is  it 
money,  or  influence,  or  anything  ?  Tell  me  truly,  Mr. 
Blake ;  I  want  to  know  all  you  can  tell  me." 

"  You  shall  know  before  I  tell  another  soul.  As  yet, 
— forgive  me  again, — this  will  supply  his  greatest  need." 
And  holding  up  her  note,  he  turned  quickly  away. 

She  was  blushing  now — crimson, — but  there  was 
(something  she  had  to  know,  and  so  recalled  him. 

"  Has  anything  new  been  discovered, — have  any  steps 
been  taken  towards  finding  the  murderer  ?" 

"  Mr,  Green,  the  lawyer  whom  we  have  consulted, 


352  MARION'S  FAITH. 

has  had  an  interview  with  Kay,  and  he  has  a  clue  now 
of  some  kind  that  is  being  investigated." 
"And  you  know  whom  he  suspects?" 
"  He  has  not  told  me,  Miss  Sanford,  and — something 
that  occurred  recently  in  the  garrison  had  set  me  to 
asking  him  questions  which  he  declined  to  answer, — 
another  matter  entirely, — I  saw  he   had  reasons  for 

keeping  it  to  himself " 

"  Mr.  Blake,  have  you  still  that  note  he  sent  last 
iiight?" 

"  No ;  he  burned  that  this  morning." 
"Has  he  said  nothing — nothing  to  indicate  whom 
he  suspects  ?" 

"  Not  to  me— as  yet.  We  have  had  too  much  to 
attend  to,  perhaps,  but  it  is  plainly  something  he  hates 
to  allude  to." 

"  Look  !   Mr.  Blake ;   they  are  calling  you — down 
the  row.     You  will  come  back  and  tell  us  what  it  is  ?" 
"  Yes,  and  at  once." 

Warner  and  Mr.  Green  were  indeed  calling  him. 
Among  the  letters  in  the  breast-pocket  of  Gleason's 
blouse  were  three  signed  Rallston.  They  were  reading 
them  with  eager  interest  when  the  little  detective  from 
Denver  sauntered  in  from  the  rear  room. 

"  This — a — gauntlet,  lieutenant,  was  lying  with  some 
other  things  on  top  of  the  bureau.     Were  you  going  to 
pack  it  in  the  trunk  ?" 
"Yes.     Why?" 

"  Well,  a  single  right-hand  glove  won't  be  of  much 
use  to  the  relatives  of  the  deceased,  especially  an  old 
worn  one  like  this.     Where's  the  mate  ?" 
"  I  don't  remember  seeing  one." 


WHOSE   GAUNTLET?  353 

"  Well,  you  soldiers  don't  generally  keep  one  glove 
without  the  other.  Where  was  this  before  you  put  it 
with  the  things  ?" 

"  I  picked  it  off  the  floor  near  the  head  of  the  bed." 

"  And  there  wasn't  another  thereabouts  ?" 

"  I  saw  none." 

The  detective  went  back  to  his  work,  and  the  officers 
with  Mr.  Green  to  the  letters.  When  they  had  read 
them  through  to  the  end,  Blake  arose. 

"  You  will  admit,  Mr.  Warner,  that  I  have  excellent 
reason  for  asking  and  expecting  permission  to  rejoin  my 
incarcerated  friend  now,"  said  he,  with  sarcastic  em 
phasis.  "If  that  doesn't  knock  the  court-martial 
charges  cold  as  a  wedge,  what  will  ?" 

"I  never  fully  believed  Mr.  Ray  guilty  of  those 
charges,  Blake,  and  you  know  it.  I  must  see  the  colo 
nel,  of  course,  and  show  him  these  letters." 

"  Pardon  me,  Mr.  Warner,"  said  the  lawyer.  "  Tell 
him  of  them  if  you  see  fit,  but  as  Mr.  Ray's  legal  ad 
viser  I  do  not  propose  to  let  such  important  evidence 
for  the  defence  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  prosecution." 
(Warner  flushed  hotly.)  "  I  do  not  refer  to  you,  my 
dear  sir,  but  to  your  commanding  officer,  who  is  under 
stood  to  have  worked  up  the  case  against  my  client, 
and  will  naturally  feel  chagrined  to  find  what  liars  his 
witnesses  were.  Human  nature,  sir  ;  human  nature." 

"  No,  Warner,  I  don't  mean  you  either, — in  that 
case,  that  is,"  said  Blake,  all  excitement  over  the  late 
discoveries ;  "  but  these  are  ours,  and  by  gad  !  we  mean 
to  hold  them.  Whoop  !  Fiat  justitia,  rue  it,  Whal 
ing's  !  Go  and  tell  your  distinguished  chief  that  I  will 
be  pleased  to  know  whether  he  has  considered  my  ap- 
x  30* 


354  MARIONS  FAITH. 

plication  yet.  Here !  Hold  on,  Warner.  D — n  it 
all,  man  !  I'm  unpardonable  for  mixing  you  and  him 
up  in  the  matter.  Forgive  me,  but  I'm  all  unstrung 
these  last  few  days.  If  you  fellows  only  knew  Ray  as 
we  do  there  wouldn't  have  been  this  trouble." 

And  they  shook  hands,  and  Warner  went  off  to  see 
his  chief,  and  had  a  quick  conversation  with  him  that 
brought  the  blood  to  the  usually  colorless  face  of  the 
well-preserved  veteran.  The  colonel  arose  hastily  and 
said  he  would  go  with  them.  He  wanted  to  see  those 
letters,  and  he  did,  and  looked  strangely  perturbed  as 
they  were  read  to  him,  and  then  Blake  again  preferred 
his  request  for  permission  to  visit  town  and  to  remain 
all  night.  The  colonel  hemmed  and  hawed.  These 
papers,  of  course,  had  an  important  bearing  on  the  case 
as  it  originally  stood  before  the  court-martial  as  ordered, 
but  matters  had  changed  materially.  "  Mr.  Ray  is 
now  on  trial  for  his  life,  you  see,  and  before,  he  was 
only  on  trial  for — a " 

"  Only  for  his  honor,"  put  in  Blake,  at  the  instant. 
"  Very  true,  colonel,  only  for  his  honor,  and  we  have  a 
singular  fashion  in  our  regiment  of  looking  upon  the 
one  as  quite  as  important  as  the  other." 

The  colonel  was  wrathy.  He  was  essentially  what 
is  called  an  office  soldier.  He  had  regulations  and 
papers  at  his  fingers'  ends ;  his  whole  army  existence 
had  been  spent  in  the  preservation  of  his  health  and 
the  cultivation  of  the  peaceful  branches  of  his  art. 
No  one  ever  heard  of  his  shooting,  riding,  hunting,  or 
taking  a  risk  of  any  kind.  His  habits  were  methodi 
cal  as  those  of  the  office  clock,  and  his  one  dissipation 
was  the  billiard-table.  His  theory  of  success  was 


WHOSE  GAVNTLET?  355 

founded  on  common  sense :  Take  care  of  your  health, 
avoid  dissipation,  shun  any  and  all  danger,  volunteer 
for  nothing,  do  only  what  you  are  compelled  to  do,  shift 
all  possible  work  on  somebody  else's  shoulders,  preserve 
a  purely  negative  record,  and — you  are  bound  to  rise 
to  the  highest  grades  in  the  army.  It  must  be  admitted 
that  the  laws  of  promotion  are  admirably  calculated  to 
foster  just  such  a  line  of  argument,  and  that  Whaling's 
"  head  was  level."  Now,  though  wrathy  at  Blake,  he 
Raw  at  once  that  he  had  been  egregiously  deceived  as  to 
the  evidence  to  be  given  by  Rallston  on  the  pending 
court ;  it  was  better  policy  to  avoid  all  that  might  look 
like  persecution  of  Ray  or  Ray's  friends ;  he  gave  a 
moment  of  thought  to  the  matter,  and  then  said, — 

"  You  may  go,  Mr.  Blake,  because  I  desire  you  and 
your  regiment  to  understand  that  I  have  no  wish  to 
obtrude  my  ideas  of  discipline  upon  you  at  such  a  time. 
At  any  other  I  would  not  have  overlooked  your  mis 
conduct." 

"  At  any  other  time,  sir,  it  probably  would  not  have 
occurred,"  said  Blake,  still  hotly ;  but  the  entrance  of 
the  detective  put  an  end  to  the  talk.  He  still  carried 
the  gauntlet  in  his  hand. 

"  There  is  no  mate  to  this  in  that  room.  What  is 
more,  this  glove  never  belonged  to  Lieutenant  Gleason  ; 
it  is  four  sizes  too  small  for  him.  What  officer  or  sol 
dier  ever  wore  one  like  that  ?"  he  asked. 

It  was  a  worn  and  rein-soiled  gauntlet,  originally  of 
white  wash-leather,  finely  stitched  in  silk,  and  with  a 
cuff  or  gauntlet  heavily  stiffened  with  leather  inside ; 
and  this  cuff  instead  of  being  joined  was  slashed  from 
wrist  to  end  on  the  under  side,  and  three  little  buttons 


356  MARION'S  FAITH. 

and  straps  were  used  to  fasten  it  snugly  to  the  arm  after 
being  slipped  over  the  hand.  It  was  utterly  unlike 
any  gauntlet  in  use  in  the  United  States  cavalry  at  the 
time ;  it  was  utterly  unlike  those  for  sale  in  the  stores 
of  Cheyenne.  Blake  examined  it  curiously,  but  could 
remember  none  that  resembled  it.  Leaving  the  others 
examining  the  glove,  he  walked  up  the  row. 

Mrs.  Stannard  and  Marion  both  came  down.  The 
mere  sight  of  his  face  brought  eagerness  and  hope  into 
their  eyes.  It  was  to  be  observed  at  this  juncture  that 
Mrs.  Stannard's  arm  was  around  that  slender  waist. 
The  symptom  has  no  significance,  of  course,  among 
school-girls  or  womanhood  in  general,  but  it  meant  a 
good  deal  where  either  one  of  these  women  was  con 
cerned,  and  Blake  knew  it. 

"  What  wouldn't  I  give  if  the  major  were  only  here  !" 
he  exclaimed,  impetuously.  "  There  are  three  letters 
from  Rallston  there  with  a  lot  of  others,  showing  clearly 
what  a  conspiracy  had  been  worked  up  against  Ray  by 
that — by  Gleason.  The  last  one  was  written  in  Den 
ver  only  two  days  before — only  three  days  ago,  and  it 
shows  that  he  had  completely  gone  back  on  Gleason, 
and  accuses  him  of  all  manner  of  blackguardly  work. 
He  had  some  conscience  after  all,  for  he  swears  he  never 
thought  Gleason  would  use  what  he  told  him  to  get 
Ray  into  trouble.  He  was  mad  because  Ray  wouldn't 
pass  his  horses.  Oh,  it  breaks  up  the  whole  business  ! 
Green  thinks  he  should  be  secured  at  once,  and  is  going 
to  have  the  detectives  after  him  the  moment  we  can 
telegraph.  Whew  !  Excuse  me,  ladies,  but  I'm  warm  !" 
And  Blake  leaned  limply  against  the  railing  and  mopped 
his  brow. 


WHOSE  GAUNTLET?  357 

"Mr.  Blake,  have  you  eaten  a  thing  to-day?'' 
asked  Mrs.  Stannard.  "  Do  come  in  and  let  me  get 
you  a  sandwich  and  a  glass  of  wine." 

"  Not  a  morsel !  I  want  to  hurry  back  to  town  to 
hug  Billy.  I'm  only  waiting  for  Green.  He  tells  me 
that  everything  can  be  arranged  so  that  Kay  shall  stay 
where  I  left  him, — in  a  comfortable  room  in  the  jailor's 
home  instead  of  where  that  old  bag  of  skin  and  bones 
thought  he'd  get  him."  And  he  vengefully  shook  his 
fist  at  the  colonel,  who  was  returning  homeward  to  tell 
his  wife  the  wonderful  tidings  of  the  discoveries  in 
Gleason's  pockets.  Mrs.  Stannard  had  not  smiled  for 
two  entire  days,  but  Blake's  reviving  spirits  and  the 
welcome  news  combined  to  bring  back  the  sunshine  to 
her  tired  face.  Marion,  too,  though  listening  in  silence 
to  what  was  said,  clung  closer  to  her  friend,  and  looked 
up  with  thanksgiving  in  her  eyes.  Just  then  the  law 
yer  and  the  little  detective  came,  talking  earnestly 
together,  up  the  row,  and,  naturally,  all  three  studied 
their  looks  and  gestures  with  eager  attention. 

"  That  little  Denverite  is  on  a  scent,"  said  Blake  in 
a  low  tone  ;  "  he  has  been  hunting  high  and  low  for  a 
mate  to  a  peculiar  gauntlet  that  was  found  there.  He 
says  Gleason  could  never  have  owned  it." 

"A  gauntlet?  What  was  it  like?"  asked  Miss 
Sanford,  with  a  start. 

"  Like  nothing  we  wear,  that  I  ever  saw.  It's  old 
and  worn,  but  was  a  handsome  glove  once." 

"  Mr.  Blake,  I — I  want  to  see  it !  ask  him  if  I  may." 
And  she  stepped  eagerly  forward,  her  blue  eyes  dilating, 
her  whole  frame  tremulous. 

Blake  sprang  from  the  railing,  and  was  by  the  detec- 


358  MARION'S  FAITH. 

tive's  side  in  three  long  strides.  At  the  whispered 
words  he  spoke  both  the  lawyer  and  the  detective 
glanced  quickly  and  keenly  at  the  ladies :  the  former 
took  off  his  hat  to  them,  the  latter  seemed  to  hesitate 
for  a  moment,  then  stepping  forward,  he  courteously 
bowed,  took  the  gauntlet  from  an  inner  pocket,  and 
handed  it  to  her.  The  instant  she  caught  sight  of  it 
she  shuddered  and  shrank,  though  an  eager,  triumphant 
light  shot  into  her  eyes ;  then,  as  though  by  an  effort, 
she  overcame  the  horror  and  repugnance  that  had  seized 
her,  took  it  as  she  might  a  frog  or  worm,  between 
thumb  and  forefinger,  and  darted  into  the  house,  leav 
ing  all  but  Mrs.  Stannard  petrified  with  amaze.  "  Never 
fear,"  said  Mrs.  Stannard.  "  I  know  where  she  has 
taken  it.  She  will  be  back  in  a  moment." 

Up  the  stairs  she  flew  and  into  the  front  room,  where 
Mrs.  Truscott  sat  by  the  window  in  a  low  rocking- 
chair. 

"  Grace  Truscott !  Look  at  this.  Don't  touch  it ! 
Ix>ok  at  those  fastenings — those  buttons.  Who  was 
the  only  person  you  ever  saw  wear  a  glove  like  that  ?" 

"  Sergeant  Wolf,  Marion.     Where— how?" 

But  she  was  gone  like  a  flash.  Down  the  stairs 
again,  her  feet  twinkling  like  magic,  out  in  the  free  air 
among  them  all,  her  heart  bounding,  her  blue  eyes 
blazing,  her  color  vivid,  brilliant. 

"  Take  it !"  she  cried.  "  Take  it !  The  man  who 
murdered  him,  the  man  who  wore  that  glove,  was 
Wolf,  the  deserter." 


REVELATIONS.  359 

CHAPTEE  XXVI. 

KEVELATIONS. 

Colonel  Rand  arrived  from  Omaha  the  next 
afternoon,  and  Blake  met  him  at  the  depot,  he  found 
that  there  was  less  for  him  to  do  than  he  imagined. 
He  had  known  Ray  well  for  many  years  of  his  army 
life,  had  served  with  him  in  Arizona,  and  was  one  of 
his  stanchest  friends.  He  was  wild  with  enthusiasm 
when  Truscott's  despatch  was  received,  telling  of 
Wayne's  rescue  and  Ray's  heroic  conduct,  and  he  was 
furious  over  the  tidings  that  his  gallant  friend  had  been 
placed  in  arrest  on  charges  that  had  not  been  investi 
gated  at  department  headquarters,  or  by  anybody  who 
could  represent  Ray's  interests.  Even  before  the  tele 
grams  came  in  from  the  regiment  protesting  against 
Ray's  trial  in  their  absence,  he  had  started  for  Kansas 
City  armed  with  a  copy  of  the  charges  and  specifica 
tions,  had  easily  determined  that  the  civilians  cited  as 
witnesses  were  men  who  really  knew  little  or  nothing, 
but  had  only  a  vague,  "  hearsay"  idea  of  matters,  which 
vigorous  cross-questioning  developed  that  they  had 
mainly  derived  from  letters  or  talks  of  Gleason's,  or  had 
got  from  Rallston  himself,  who,  said  they,  was  riled 
because  he  couldn't  play  off  a  lot  of  broken-down  mus 
tangs  for  sound  horses  on  that  board.  No  one  could 
swear  that  he  had  seen  Ray  drink  ;  no  one  could  swear 
he  had  played  any  game  for  any  stake ;  no  one  could 


360  MARIONS  FAITH. 

testify  to  a  single  act  of  his  that  was  in  the  faintest  de 
gree  unofficerlike  or  unbecoming  a  gentleman.  Indeed, 
even  the  cads  with  whom  Gleason  consorted  seemed  to 
have  become  inspired  with  contempt.  And  Rand  went 
back  to  Omaha  satisfied  that  the  charges  were  all  con 
spiracy.  But  Eallston  had  kept  out  of  his  way.  He 
could  not  reach  him.  No  one  knew  where  he  was. 
Some  went  so  far  as  to  say  he  was  ashamed  of  having 
been  mixed  up  with  Gleason  in  such  a  low  piece  of 
business.  Even  Mrs.  Rallston  at  Omaha  could  tell 
nothing  of  her  husband's  whereabouts,  and  was  in  great 
distress  over  the  letters  from  her  brother  announcing 
the  trouble  in  which  he  was  enveloped,  all  on  account 
of  Rallston's  rascality  as  she  felt,  though  he  would  not 
say.  Then  came  the  fearful  news  that  Gleason  was 
murdered  by  her  brother,  and  the  next  day  she  had  sold 
one  of  the  beautiful  solitaires  that  Rallston  had  given 
her  in  the  days  when  he  was  a  dashing  wooer,  and  on 
the  same  train  with  Colonel  Rand  she  hastened  to  Chey 
enne.  Blake  was  presented  to  her  as  she  alighted  from 
the  cars,  and  conducted  her  to  the  parlor  of  the  hotel, 
where  in  few  words  he  told  them  of  the  discovery  of 
Rallston's  letters  in  the  dead  man's  pockets,  and  of 
Wolfs  gauntlet  in  the  dead  man's  room.  The  detec 
tives  had  urged  that  nothing  should  be  revealed  in  this 
last  matter,  as  every  effort  was  now  being  made  to  cap 
ture  the  ex-sergeant,  and  that  little  man  from  Denver 
had  already  a  reply  from  his  chief,  saying  that  Rallston 
was  there  and  could  be  produced  at  any  time.  Poor 
Mrs.  Rallston !  She  winced  at  the  professional  tech 
nicalities,  but  wrote  a  hurried  despatch,  care  of  the 
Rocky  Mountain  Dectective  Agency,  enjoining  him  to 


REVELATIONS.  361 

come  to  them  at  once  ;  breathing  no  word  of  reproach 
or  blame,  but  telling  him  that  his  letters  were  now  in 
Ray's  hands,  and  they  felt  that  he  bitterly  regretted  the 
part  he  had  taken  in  connection  with  Gleason.  He 
must  come  and  exonerate  her  brother  from  the  charge 
of  accepting  a  bribe,  to  which  he  was  assigned  as  the 
sole  witness. 

There  was  a  further  conference  that  need  not  be  de 
tailed.  Colonel  Rand  desired  first  to  see  some  of  the 
prominent  business  men  whom  he  knew,  as  he  proposed 
to  have  Ray  bailed  out  instanter  no  matter  what  that 
young  gentleman's  wishes  might  be,  and  Blake,  giving 
her  his  arm,  escorted  Mrs.  Rallston  through  the  bus 
tling  streets  until  they  reached  the  jail.  Even  then 
there  was  a  little  knot  of  hangers-on  watching  with 
wolfish  curiosity  every  comer.  The  officials  touched 
their  hats  to  Blake  and  his  veiled  companion,  and 
looked  admiringly  at  her  tall,  graceful  form.  Already 
something  was  beginning  to  whisper  that  justice  had 
been  blinder  than  ever,  had  been  groping  painfully  in 
the  dark,  and  had  nabbed  the  wrong  man.  Mr.  Per 
kins  and  his  jury  had  been  basely  and  ungratefully 
alluded  to  as  a  batch  of  leather  heads,  and  it  behooved 
the  sheriffs  and  others  to  look  to  the  buttered  side  of 
their  bread,  lest  it,  too,  should  fall  in  the  municipal 
mud.  Blake  felt  her  trembling  as  they  passed  through 
the  office  into  a  long  and  dimly-lighted  hall. 

"  Courage,  Mrs.  Rallston,"  he  whispered.  "  We  are 
going  to  lose  him,  you  and  I,  but  it's  to  a  very  differ 
ent  captivity.  Oh,  he's  gone  this  time  past  all  saving. 
Just  wait  till  you  see  her  !"  And  before  she  could  ask 
one  question  in  her  wonderment,  a  door  was  opened, 
Q  31 


362  MARION'S  FAITH. 

there  was  a  fond,  welcoming  cry  of  "  Nell !"  and  for 
the  first  time  in  all  her  life,  so  far  as  Ray  could  tell,  the 
sister  fell  forward,  fainting,  into  his  arms.  Blake  as 
sisted  in  carrying  her  to  the  sofa,  brought  a  glass  of 
water,  and  then,  as  she  began  to  revive,  he  silently 
withdrew  and  left  them  together. 

Later  that  afternoon  Colonel  Rand,  Mr.  Green,  and 
Blake  had  a  quiet  consultation  with  the  prisoner.  The 
matter  of  bail,  said  Rand,  was  already  settled.  On 
his  representations  half  a  dozen  prominent  citizens  had 
signified  their  willingness  to  act.  Mr.  Green  stated  that 
he  had  received  advice  of  other  offers,  at  which  Blake 
was  seen  to  give  him  a  kick  under  the  table  whereon 
their  papers  were  spread.  There  was  really  nothing  to 
prevent  the  arrangement  being  made  this  evening  so 
that  he  might  not  have  to  pass  another  night  under  the 
jail  roof,  but  Ray  was  firm.  He  would  not  return  to 
Russell  in  arrest ;  he  would  not  accept  his  release  until 
it  could  be  freedom ;  he  was  treated  courteously  and 
considerately  by  the  sheriff 's  people,  was  allowed  this 
comfortable  room  instead  of  a  cell,  and  he  resolutely 
refused  all  offer  of  bail  so  long  as  there  remained  a  pre 
text  for  the  continuance  of  his  arrest  on  other  charges. 
Rand  himself,  who  had  been  accustomed  to  his  quick, 
impetuous  ways  for  years,  could  hardly  recognize  in  the 
Ray  of  to-day  the  reckless,  devil-may-care,  laughing 
fellow  of  two  years  ago.  He  seemed  utterly  changed. 
He  was  years  older  in  manner,  grave,  patient,  tolerant 
of  the  opinions  of  those  about  him,  but  doubly  tena 
cious  of  his  own,  and  surprisingly  capable  of  demonstra 
ting  their  justice. 

"  It   has   simply   come   to   this,   colonel.      I  stand 


REVELATIONS.  363 

charged-  at  division  headquarters  of  crimes  that  if 
proven  would  dismiss  me  from  the  service.  The 
death  of  the  principal  witness  is  the  worst  mishap  that 
could  have  befallen  me.  It  leaves  me  unvindicated, 
because  now  we  cannot  impeach  his  testimony ;  because 
now  my  enemies  can  say  that  had  he  lived  the  result 
might  have  been  diiferent.  I  urge,  I  claim  that  I  must 
be  tried ;  and  Blake  here  is  my  witness  that  I  have 
said  so  from  the  very  first.  Nothing  but  a  trial  can 
clear  me  fully  of  the  infamous  charges  you  hold  there, 
and  no  friend  of  mine  will  delay  it  an  instant.  So  far 
from  postponing  that  court,  I  say  hasten  it.  Let  it  sit 
at  once.  I  am  ready  to-day,  any  day  to  meet  and  re 
fute  the  charges.  I  need  no  friend  from  the  regiment, 
from  anywhere.  I  shall  not  draw  on  my  field  record 
for  a  cent's  worth  of  consideration.  The  case  must  bo 
tried  on  its  merits.  I  do  not  believe  a  witness  need  be 
called  for  the  defence,  but  until  vindicated  I  protest 
against  any  step  that  may  send  me  back  to  Russell. 
Answer  as  to  that,  and  then  we  will  come  to  this  matter 
of  my  situation  here." 

And  Rand  agreed  with  him  that  the  court  should 
meet  forthwith,  and  that  telegrams  should  be  sent  at 
once  to  division  headquarters  urging  that  no  postpone 
ment  be  granted.  The  despatch  was  written,  and  Blake 
took  it  to  the  office.  Then  Ray  went  on  with  his  talk  : 

"  And  now,  colonel,  I  have  waited  for  your  coming 
that  in  your  presence  I  might  refer  to  two  points  that, 
as  Mr.  Green  has  said,  bore  heavily  against  me  with 
the  coroner's  jury,  and  would  have  to  be  met  should 
the  case  come  to  trial.  Until  it  come  to  trial  there  are 
one  or  two  matters  which  I  will  not  explain,  simply 


364  MARION'S  FAITH. 

because  they  concern  others  more  than  they  do  me. 
As  you  have  seen,  suspicion  is  already  pointing  to  Ser 
geant  Wolf.  I  have  connected  him  with  the  murder 
from  the  first.  The  detective  has  ascertained  beyond 
doubt  that  that  was  his  glove  ;  that  a  horse  was  tied  at 
the  northeast  corner  of  the  hospital  yard  about  the 
time  of  the  occurrence,  and  that  a  bandsman — the 
drummer — is  almost  certain  that  my  pistol,  which  did 
the  work,  was  in  the  sergeant's  possession  the  night  he 
deserted.  I  know  it  was  :  this  note  will  prove  it."  And 
he  produced  from  an  envelope  bearing  the  Laramie 
City  postmark,  and  addressed  to  him  at  Russell,  a  sheet 
of  note-paper  on  which,  without  date  or  signature,  was 
written,  "  I  had  to  take  your  pistol.  Time  was  every 
thing.  The  enclosed  twenty  dollars  will  pay."  "  Com 
pare  that  writing,"  he  continued,  "  with  dozens  of  speci 
mens  to  be  found  in  the  office  at  Russell,  and  that  will 
settle  it. 

"  Now,  the  jury  could  not  understand  why  I  refused 
to  let  Hogan  have  my  pistol  that  night.  It  was  be 
cause  I  knew  it  was  gone,  and  I  did  not  wish  any  one 
else  to  know  it.  The  colonel  could  not  understand 
why  I  would  not  tell  the  cause  of  Wolf's  desertion.  I 
did  not  wish  any  one  to  know.  Everybody,  I  presume, 
wanted  to  know  how  I  explained  away  the  presence  of 
my  pistol  at  the  scene,  and  that  was  another  thing  I 
wanted  kept  in  the  dark  until — until  released  from  a 
promise  that  involved  the  peace  of  one  whom  I  was 
bound  to  protect.  (Mrs.  Rallston's  eyes  were  dilating 
to  twice  their  usual  size.)  As  soon  as  notified  of  the 
decision  of  that  jury,  I  wrote  saying  that  it  might  soon 
be  necessary  to  save  my  honor  to  reveal  what  I  had 


REVELATIONS,  365 

kept  so  sacred.  No  answer  came  until — until  last 
night ;  full  and  free  release  from  my  promise ;  but  I 
believe  that  all  may  be  kept  sacred  still.  You  will  un 
derstand  that  I  am  prepared  to  explain  these  matters 
should  the  case  come  to  trial,  but  not  before." 

Even  as  he  was  speaking  there  came  a  knock  at  the 
door :  a  telegram  for  Mr.  Green.  The  lawyer  opened 
and  read  it,  thought  earnestly  a  moment,  and  then  left 
the  room,  saying  he  would  soon  return.  It  was  getting 
dark,  and  Ray  lighted  the  oil  lamp  that  stood  upon  its 
bracket.  Rand  was  watching  his  every  movement,  and 
had  been  quietly  jotting  some  memoranda  of  his  state 
ments.  As  the  young  cavalryman  returned  to  his  seat 
by  his  sister's  side  and  took  her  hand  in  his,  the  colonel 
remarked, — 

"  Ray,  I  thought  I  knew  you  pretty  well  all  these 
years,  but  I  believe  I'm  only  just  beginning  to  get 
acquainted  with  you.  Blake  said  you  had  astonished 
him,  but  your  capacity  for  taking  things  coolly  is  an 
unexpected  trait  to  more  than  one,  I  fancy.  Now  I'm 
going  to  take  Mrs.  Rallston  over  to  the  hotel  for  tea, 
and  then  we  are  coming  back.  Tell  Blake  I  want  him 
to  apply  to  his  post  commander  for  a  seven  days'  leave 
to-night.  I'll  send  it  out  and  see  that  he  gets  it.  If 
you  won't  go  back  to  Russell  he  must  be  here  with  you. 
Ah  !  here  he  comes  now  !" 

"  Where's  Green  ?"  was  the  exclamation  that  greeted 
their  ears  as  Blake  bolted  in,  all  excitement.  "  I  want 
him,  quick.  Billy,  they've  got  that  man  Wolf,  and  he 
wants  to  see  you  or  somebody.  He's  pretty  near  gone 
and  fought  like  a  tiger,  they  say/' 

"Where  is  he?"  asknd  Rand,  springing  to  his  feet. 


366  MARION'S  FAITH. 

"  Just  out  here  at  the  edge  of  town  in  a  blackguardly 
sort  of  dive.  It's  my  belief  they've  kept  him  there 
hid  ever  since  the  night  of  the  murder.  Come,  we 
must  have  Green  and  the  sheriff.  I  know  Ray  can  go 
with  us.  There'll  be  a  carriage  in  a  minute." 

"  Let  me  escort  you  to  the  hotel,  Mrs.  Rallston," 
said  Rand,  "  then  I  can  go  with  them.  This  means 
confirmation  of  our  theory  and  the  end  of  our  troubles," 
he  said,  reassuringly.  Ray,  very  pale  and  very  quiet, 
kissed  her  good-night  and  saw  her  to  the  hall,  promis 
ing  to  send  for  her  as  soon  as  was  possible.  Then,  as 
for  a  moment  he  was  left  alone,  he  took  from  an  inner 
pocket  a  crumpled  little  note  that  Blake  had  brought 
him  the  previous  evening,  read  it  lingeringly,  though 
with  eyes  that  softened  and  glowed  with  a  light  that  no 
one  yet  had  seen,  and  when  he  had  finished  he  stood 
there  gazing  at  the  signature  and  the  few  words  with 
which  the  note  was  concluded  : 

"  Believe  me,  dear  Mr.  Ray,  she  never  for  an  instant 
thought  you  guilty.  And  now  good-night.  I  shall 
pray  God  to  watch  over  and  cheer  you.  Need  I  tell 
you  that  your  trouble  has  made  me  only  the  more 

"  Loyally  your  friend,  MARION  SANFORD." 

Oh,  Ray !  Ray  !  Here  was  strength  and  cheer  and 
comfort  for  twenty  men.  No  wonder  you  could  bear 
the  slings  and  arrows  of  your  outrageous  fortune  with 
tha.  charming  endorsement !  No  wonder  people  thought 
you  changed !  What  would  people  think — or  rather 
what  would  they  say  if  they  knew  of  that  letter  and 
its  very  comforting  conclusion  ?  What  will  be  said  of 


RE  VELA  TIONS.  36 7 

our  heroine,  Marion,  when  these  damaging  particulars 
are  brought  to  light  ?  What  would  the  girls  at  Madame 
Keichard's  have  said?  though  they  knew  she  had  a 
romantic  streak  in  her,  and  was  a  worshipper  of  heroes  ? 
What  will  the  cold  and  unsympathetic  and  critical 
reader  remark  of  the  unmaidenly  lack  of  reserve  which 
prompted  those  last  few  lines?  What  will  Marion 
herself  say  when  she  hears  of  them  as  thus  ruthlessly 
dragged  to  the  bar  of  public  opinion  ?  Poor  Marion  ! 
Her  cheeks  will  redden,  her  eyes  flash  and  suffuse,  her 
heart  beat  like  a  trip-hammer,  her  white  teeth  set,  her 
soft  lips  will  firmly  close.  She  will  be  annoyed.  She 
may  admit  that  in  cold  blood — under  any  other  circum 
stances — she  would  never  have  so  committed  herself, 
and  that  nothing  but  the  thought  of  the  wrongs  and 
sorrows  and  sufferings  that  had  been  heaped  one  after 
another  upon  the  undeserving  head  of  that  luckiest  of 
young  Kentuckians  would  ever  have  betrayed  her  into 
such  an  outburst  of  sentiment.  She  may  admit  what 
indeed  was  the  truth,  that  she  wrote  the  whole  thing 
after  a  vehement  interview  with  Grace,  at  a  time  when 
she  thought  she  saw  her  gallant  friend  dragged  off  to 
jail,  believing  he  had  been  denied  by  those  whom  he 
was  actually  suffering  to  shield.  She  may  say  that, 
had  there  been  time,  she  would  have  less  pointedly 
worded  the  closing  sentence.  But  of  one  thing  you 
may  be  certain, — once  and  for  all, — she  said  just  what 
she  thought,  and  now — against  the  opinion  of  the  whole 
world  if  need  be — she  will  stand  by  those  words  through 
thick  and  thin, — she  will  never  retract. 

And  as  for  Ray :  he  gazed  upon  them  as  he   might 
upon  a  heaven-inspired  message  from  a  better  world ; 


368  MARION'S  FAITH. 

he  bowed  his  head  and  kissed,  reverently,  humbly, 
prayerfully,  the  sweet  and  thrilling  words ;  and  then, 
and  then — he  bent  his  knee  and  bowed  his  head,  and 
with  deeper  reverence,  with  humility  such  as  he  had 
never  known  before,  with  a  prayer  that  came  from  the 
depths  of  his  loyal  heart,  he  thanked  God  for  the  in 
finite  blessing  that  had  come  to  him  through  the  dark 
ness  of  his  bitter  trials ;  he  rose  calm,  strengthened, 
steadfast,  as  he  heard  the  rapidly-approaching  footsteps 
of  his  friends. 

Less  than  half  an  hour  thereafter  a  little  group  sat 
in  silence  around  a  rude  bed  in  a  darkened  room.  Out 
side,  sullen  and  scowling,  two  rough-looking  men,  the 
owners  of  the  establishment,  were  guarded  by  the  offi 
cers  of  the  law,  while  within,  Ray,  Blake,  Mr.  Green, 
the  sheriff,  and  an  officer  of  the  territorial  court  were 
listening  to  the  dying  deposition  of  the  Saxon  soldier 
Wolf, — the  physicians  had  declared  it  impossible  for 
him  to  live  another  day. 

Late  on  the  night  of  the  murder  three  men,  return 
ing  townwards  from  the  "  house  on  the  hill,"  had  come 
suddenly  upon  a  gray  horse  dragging  a  man  by  the 
stirrup.  They  picked  the  man  up  and  carried  him  into 
the  gambling-house  at  the  edge  of  town,  where  they  laid 
him  upon  this  bed.  Noting  the  U.  S.  on  the  shoulder 
of  the  horse  and  his  cavalry  equipments,  they  sent  him 
away  in  charge  of  one  of  their  number,  and  proceeded 
to  search  the  pockets  of  the  still  insensible  s*oldier,  who 
was  clad  in  comparatively  new  "  ranchman's"  clothing, 
and  who  wore  a  gauntlet  on  his  left  hand.  He  had 
revived  for  a  moment,  was  told  that  he  was  among 
friends  and  had  nothing  to  fear.  He  said  his  horse 


RE  VELA  TIONS.  369 

had  stumbled  into  an  acequia  in  the  darkness  and 
fallen  on  him,  and  now  he  wanted  to  get  up.  They 
assured  him  no  horse  was  there ;  that,  finding  him  in 
sensible,  they  had  carried  him  to  this  place,  where  he 
was  all  right  "  if  he  kept  quiet/'  and  Wolf  soon  re 
alized  that  he  was  in  a  notorious  "  dive"  where  soldiers 
were  often  drugged  and  robbed  of  their  money.  He 
was  locked  in  that  night,  and  though  suffering  intensely 
from  internal  injuries,  he  strove  to  make  his  escape. 
The  next  morning  people  in  the  neighborhood  heard 
appalling  cries  and  uproar,  but  such  things  had  often 
happened  there  before  in  the  drunken  fights  that  took 
place,  and  not  until  this  day  had  it  leaked  out  in  some 
way  that  there  was  a  man  there  dying  from  injuries 
received  partly  in  a  runaway  and  partly  in  a  fight  in 
the  house.  The  police  made  a  raid,  and  there  discov 
ered  the  very  man  for  whom  the  detectives  and  the 
military  were  searching  high  and  low.  His  first  words 
were  to  ask  for  Lieutenant  Ray,  then  for  a  physician 
and  a  lawyer.  And  now  his  story  was  almost  done. 
Ray  was  fully,  utterly  exonerated. 

In  brief,  it  wTas  about  as  follows  :  He  was  mad  with 
rage  at  the  treatment  he  had  received  at  the  hands  of 
Lieutenant  Gleason,  and  at  a  deed  of  his  which  he 
would  not  detail, — Lieutenant  Ray  knew,  and  that  was 
enough.  He  himself  had  only  one  thought, — to  follow 
at  once  on  the  trail,  to  find  him  alone  if  possible,  and 
to  compel  him  to  fight  him  as  gentlemen  fought,  d  ou- 
trance,  in  the  old  country.  He  took  Ray's  pistol,  and 
after  getting  some  papers  and  some  clothing  he  needed 
from  the  band  barracks,  he  went  to  the  stables,  raised 
the  shutter,  and  crept  into  the  window  of  the  stall 
y 


370  MARION'S  FAITH. 

which  held  his  horse,  led  him  noiselessly  out  over  the 
earthen  floor  to  the  rear  entrance,  which  was  easily 
opened  from  the  inside,  and  long  before  dawn  was 
on  the  road  to  Fetterman,  in  pursuit  of  the  stage.  He 
had  no  fear  of  ranch  people  betraying  him  as  a  deserter. 
They  knew  nothing  but  what  he  was  carrying  de 
spatches.  He  had  received  plenty  of  money  but  a 
short  time  before  through  friends  in  Dresden ;  he 
hoped  to  secure  fresh  horses,  and  overtake  the  stage 
before  it  reached  a  ranch  where  they  stopped  for  meals 
several  hours  south  of  Fetterman.  His  plan  was  wild 
and  impracticable,  enough  to  throw  doubts  on  his 
sanity,  but  he  only  thought  of  revenge,  he  said ;  he 
was  determined  to  waylay  Gleason  and  force  him  to 
fight.  But  his  plan  failed.  His  horse  gave  out  long 
before  he  could  get  another ;  he  left  him  at  a  cattle 
ranch  finally,  and  went  ahead  on  a  borrowed  "  plug," 
but  to  no  purpose.  Gleason  reached  Fetterman  ahead 
of  him,  and  by  the  time  he  neared  there  he  knew  that 
his  desertion  had  been  telegraphed.  Still  he  thought 
to  follow  as  a  scout  or  teamster,  and  bought  rough 
canvas  and  woolen  clothing ;  hung  around  the  neigh 
borhood,  but  avoided  all  soldiers  ;  learned  of  Gleason's 
going  with  Webb,  and  actually  crossed  the  Platte  and 
followed  on  their  trail,  until  he  met  him  coming  back 
at  the  head  of  the  little  escort.  Keeping  his  eager 
lookout  far  ahead,  he  had  easily  hidden  himself  and  his 
horse  where  he  could  watch  them  as  they  went  by,  and 
had  recognized  his  victim,  turned  on  his  tracks,  and 
once  more  trailed  him  back ;  had  lost  him  and  followed 
the  wrong  "  buckboard"  from  Fetterman,  and  had  gone 
towards  Rock  Creek  before  he  found  out  that  Gleason 


REVELATIONS.  371 

went  by  way  of  Fort  Laramie.  A  countryman  going 
in  to  Laramie  City  had  taken,  some  days  previous,  the 
note  with  its  enclosure  to  Ray, — he  could  not  steal,  he 
said,  and  at  last,  having  recovered  his  horse,  he  returned 
by  night  to  Cheyenne,  easily  learned  of  Lieutenant  Glea- 
son's  presence  at  Russell,  and  that  very  night  rode  out 
across  the  prairie,  tied  his  gray  to  a  post  near  the  north 
east  corner  of  the  hospital  enclosure,  and  stole  to  Glea- 
son's  back-yard.  Not  for  an  instant  had  he  ever  flinched 
in  his  purpose.  He  knew  the  lieutenant  was  officer 
of  the  day,  and  that  he  would  be  out  to  visit  his  sen 
tries  after  midnight ;  but  it  occurred  to  him  he  would 
have  no  weapon  but  the  sabre,  and  he  meant  to  offer 
him  fair  fight.  A  light  was  burning  in  the  rear  room, 
He  peeped  through  the  blinds  and  saw  him  undressing 
as  though  to  go  to  bed.  He  could  wait  no  longer.  He 
opened  the  kitchen  door,  which  Shea  had  left  unlocked, 
entered  the  house,  and  rapped  at  Gleason's  door.  The 
lieutenant  supposed  it  to  be  Shea,  probably,  and  opened 
it  himself.  "  Behold  the  man  you  have  outraged,  I 
said.  I  give  you  one  instant  only  to  get  your  pistol. 
We  fight  here  to  the  death.  He  sprang  back,  still  facing 
me ;  he  was  livid  with  fear ;  he  called  for  help,  help  ! 
he  ordered  me  to  leave,  he  was  a  craven  and  would  not 
fight ;  he  called  louder,  and  then  I  fired ;  he  gave  a 
scream  and  fell  towards  me  on  his  face.  I  had  hurled 
my  gauntlet  at  him  as  I  challenged,  but  there  was  no 
time  to  pick  it  up.  I  turned  and  fled.  Some  one 
seized  me  at  the  back  gate,  but  I  hurled  him  aside  and 
ran  on  tiptoe  to  my  horse.  I  heard  voices  coming,  but 
no  one  could  hear  me.  I  led  my  horse  some  distance  ; 
fchen  mounted  and  galloped  madly  this  way.  Near 


372  MARION'S  FAITH. 

town  he  stumbled,  fell,  and  rolled  on  me,  and  I  knew 
no  more  till  I  heard  them  say  he  was  dead  and  that  the 
Herr  Lieutenant  had  killed  him.  Then  I  strove  to 
escape,  and  we  had  a  fearful  fight.  They  overcame 
and  drugged  me,  I  think,  but  again  I  came  to,  and 
begged  to  be  let  to  see  you.  They  keep  me  for  the 
reward,  perhaps,  but  they  see  me  dying,  and  the  police 
come  at  last." 

In  the  solemn  hush  of  the  darkened  room,  far  from 
the  land  where  he  had  been  known  and  loved,  where 
doubtless  his  gifts  had  been  valued,  and  his  life,  until 
wrecked  by  that  duel,  was  honored,  the  Saxon  soldier 
lay  breathing  his  last.  Mad  or  sane,  there  was  no  one 
there  to  rightly  judge.  The  one  trait  that  shone  to  the 
end  was  the  strong  love  of  the  profession  which  he 
could  have  adorned  so  well.  His  glazing  eyes  looked 
wistfully  into  Ray's  pale  face;  his  tremulous  hand 
sought  that  of  the  young  officer,  who  knelt  there  by  his 
side ;  in  faint,  broken  accents  he  spoke  his  last  earthly 
plea : 

"  I  was  a  gentleman  once,  Flerr  Lieutenant.  I  am 
soldier — even  now.  You  are  the  soldier  the  men  all 
love.  May  I  not  take  your  hand  ?" 


VINDICATED  373 

CHAPTER    XXVII. 

VINDICATED. 

LIFE  at  Russell  had  lost  for  the  time  being  so  much 
of  its  customary  gayety  as  to  warrant  Mrs.  Turner's 
discontented  descriptive  of  "poky."  With  all  but 
three  or  four  officers  absent  on  campaign ;  without 
even  letters  or  news  from  them  ;  with  Mr.  Gleason's 
tragic  fate  and  Mr.  Ray's  romantic  and  mysterious  con 
nection  therewith,  there  was  too  much  of  solemn  and 
shudder-inspiring  element  in  the  daily  talk  to  render 
conversation  at  all  cheerful.  All  sorts  of  odd  things 
had  happened  since  the  death  of  that  deserter,  Wolf, 
and  Mrs.  Turner  was  at  her  wit's  end  to  make  her  con 
clusions  fit  together.  She  had  by  no  means  ceased  to 
jump, — that  saltatory  satisfaction  at  least  remained  to 
her, — but  she  missed  the  mark  so  often  as  to  seriously 
impair,  for  a  while  at  least,  her  confidence  in  her  the 
ories,  and  nothing  but  a  series  of  serious  shocks  could 
have  achieved  that  result.  She,  too,  had  her  sorrows, 
poor  lady,  for  her  regimental  companions  in  number 
eleven  had  shunned  her  society  to  such  an  extent  as  to 
set  the  whole  garrison  talking  about  it,  though  it  took 
very  little  to  accomplish  that. 

To  begin  with,  Mrs.  Truscott  rarely  went  out  at  all, 
and  had  denied  herself  to  visitors  on  many  occasions. 
Mrs.  Stannard  and  Marion  were  all  the  companions  she 
cared  to  see  much  of,  though,  to  Mrs.  Turner's  incredu- 

32 


374  MARION'S  FAITH. 

lous  wrath,  Mis.  Wilkins  was  admitted  on  the  very 
days  when  she,  herself,  had  called  and  penetrated  no 
farther  than  the  parlor.  Mrs.  Wilkins  had  enjoyed — 
we  use  the  term  advisedly — a  furious  quarrel  with  the 
wife  of  the  commanding  officer,  and  had  driven  that 
exemplary  and  forgiving  woman  from  the  field  in  utter 
dismay.  There  had  been  no  love  lost  between  them 
from  the  first,  but  Mrs.  Wilkins  had  hotly  resented 
Mrs.  Whaling's  lamentations  over  Ray's  prospective 
conviction  and  his  undeniable  guilt,  and  had  given  the 
venerable  black  silk  a  dusting  the  very  day  that  Ray 
was  carried  off  to  prison.  Then  came  the  electrifying 
intelligence  that  Wolfs  dying  confession  had  com 
pletely  exonerated  Ray,  and  both  Mrs.  Whaling  and 
Mrs.  Turner  had  flown  to  Mrs.  Stannard  to  assure  her 
that  neither  one  of  them  could  have  believed  in  his 
guilt  had  it  not  been  for  the  other.  Mrs.  Whaling 
was  positive  that  she  had  never  spoken  of  him  except 
in  the  love  and  charity  she  would  have  used  towards 
her  own  son,  and  nothing  but  Mrs.  Turner's  accounts 
of  his  wildness  and  dissipation  would  have  shaken  her 
faith  in  him  for  a  moment.  She  had  always  admired 
his  frank  and  fearless  character,  and  so  had  "  the  gen 
eral,"  who  was  heart-broken  to  think  he  had  been  so 
outrageously  imposed  upon  by  Ray's  enemies.  Mrs. 
Turner  vowed  that  she  had  really  loved  Mr.  Ray  like 
a  brother,  but  that  Mrs.  Whaling  had  told  her  of  the 
positive  evidence  the  general  had  against  him,  and  so 
what  could  she  think?  Mrs.  Stannard  listened  to 
both  with  uncompromising  and  decidedly  chilling  silence, 
and  each  withdrew  discomfited. 

Colonel    Rand    spent   much    of  the   morning  after 


VINDICATED.  375 

Wolf's  revelation  in  overhauling  papers  with  Colonel 
Whaling,  but  his  visit  to  the  ladies  at  number  eleven 
was  of  unusual  length  and  cordiality.  He  left  only  in 
time  to  see  Ray  and  Blake  a  few  moments  in  town  be 
fore  taking  the  eastern  train.  It  had  been  Mrs.  Stan- 
nard's  intention  to  drive  thither  to  call  on  Mrs.  Rallstou, 
but  she  was  too  late.  Mr.  Green's  telegraphic  message 
from  Denver  had  warned  him  that  Rallston  was  deliri 
ous  with  fever,  and  after  the  rapturous  interview  be 
tween  brother  and  sister  that  followed  upon  his  return 
from  Wolfs  bedside,  Ray  had  gently  broken  the  news 
to  her  of  her  husband's  illness,  and  before  the  coming 
of  train  time  on  the  following  day  Rand  had  obtained 
telegraphic  authority  for  him  to  escort  her  to,  and  re 
main  with  her  in,  Denver.  His  release  by  the  civil 
authorities  would  have  had  about  it  something  of  the 
nature  of  an  ovation,  when  at  noon  on  that  day  the  full 
details  of  Wolfs  confession  were  "spread  upon  the 
records,'7  but  by  ingeniously  circulating  the  story  that 
he  would  return  to  the  fort  at  sunset,  Blake  managed 
to  throw  the  public  off  the  track.  His  arrest  was  sus 
pended  by  the  telegram  from  division  headquarters. 
Rand  was  ordered  to  come  thither  at  once  with  his 
documentary  proofs  of  the  falsity  of  the  charges  against 
Ray,  and  the  latter  went  quietly  off  to  Denver  with  a 
ten  days'  leave,  conducting  his  sister  to  her  husband's 
bedside.  He  saw  no  one  at  Russell  before  going,  but 
we  have  reason  to  believe  that  the  plethoric  missive  he 
sent  to  Mrs.  Stannard  derived  much  of  its  bulk  from 
an  enclosure  that  was  not  meant  for  her  eyes  at  all,  and 
Blake  went  back  to  Russell  to  the  lionizing  he  deserved. 
But  the  gloom  at  the  garrison  was  dispelled  perforce 


376  MARION'S  FAITH. 

by  the  arrival  of  troop  after  troop,  company  after  com 
pany,  from  east,  west,  and  south,  fast  as  cars  could  carry 
them, — all  bound  for  the  Black  Hills  to  meet  and  sup 
port  Crook,  who  was  reported  fighting  his  way  south 
ward  through  unknown  regions  and  unknown  numbers 
of  the  red  men.  Nothing  had  been  heard  even  by  tele 
graph  from  the  — th  from  any  source  whatever  since 
the  steamer  came  down  to  Bismarck  with  sick  and 
wounded,  and  the  news  that  they  had  pushed  out  again 
for  the  Little  Missouri  country  the  last  of  August,  and 
here  it  was  beyond  mid  September.  A  whole  regiment 
of  cavalry  encamped  for  a  day  or  two  on  the  prairie, 
then  marched  northward.  Natty  artillerymen  from 
San  Francisco  dropped  in  to  pay  their  respects  on  their 
way  to  "the  Hills;"  not  a  day  passed  without  the 
arrival  of  strange  officers,  scores  of  men,  and  squadrons 
of  horses.  Russell  had  suddenly  blossomed  into  first 
rank  as  a  great  supply  depot,  and  in  all  the  excitement 
of  greeting  the  new-comers,  and  sending  messages  and 
missives  to  the  dear  ones  at  the  front,  the  pall  of  trag 
edy  was  lifted  from  the  post.  Gleason  and  Wolf  were, 
alike,  wellnigh  forgotten. 

And  then  with  sudden  thrill  the  news  tore  through 
the  post,  and  flashed  over  the  wires  in  every  direction, 
that  a  courier  had  ridden  down  from  the  northern 
limits  of  the  hills  bringing  despatches  from  Crook,  and 
announcing  that,  though  half  starved,  ragged,  and 
practically  dismounted,  the  followers  of  the  Gray  Fox 
had  reached  the  Belle  Fourche,  and  would  soon  be  able 
to  push  on  to  the  agencies.  They  had  dashed  upon  the 
Sioux  villages  at  Slim  Buttes,  capturing  hundreds  of 
their  fat  ponies  (and  greedily  eating  many  of  them  that 


VINDICATED.  377 

very  night),  had  found  the  lodges  crammed  with  the 
spoil  of  the  Ouster  battle,  had  killed  several  warriors 
and  burned  every  ounce  of  Indian  stores  or  provisions 
they  could  not  use,  and  had  two  days'  ringing,  spirited 
fighting  with  Crazy  Horse  and  his  charging  hosts 
among  the  fog  wreaths  and  dripping  crags  of  those 
strange,  picturesque  upheavals ;  then  burying  their  dead 
and  bringing  away  their  wounded,  they  were  once  more 
within  reach  of  supplies,  though  it  might  be  weeks 
before  they  could  come  home.  u  Another  battle  and 
we  not  there,"  was  Blake's  sympathetic  despatch  to 
Ray  at  Denver ;  but  now  the  last  seemed  to  be  recorded. 
Another  week  and  letters  might  be  expected.  Another 
fortnight  and  it  was  known  that  all  the  forces  were 
concentrating  at  Red  Cloud  to  disarm  the  disaffected 
bands  near  the  agencies.  And  then  Blake  and  Ray, 
too,  had  both  sped  northward  again  to  join  their  regi 
ment.  Ray's  affairs  had  been  summarily  settled  in 
this  wise. 

Rallston's  illness  had  been  severe,  and  Ray  and  Nell 
had  been  constantly  at  his  side.  When  the  fever  broke 
and  consciousness  returned,  and  the  patient  realized 
where  he  was  and  who  were  his  nurses,  the  man's  re 
morse  and  shame  were  something  pitiable.  Of  him, 
as  an  impartial  historian,  it  is  difficult  to  write,  since 
long  association  with  Stannard  had  forcibly  impressed 
his  views  as  to  Rallston's  character.  Perhaps  we  were 
as  reluctant  to  hear  of  his  subsequent  behavior  and  to 
believe  in  his  contrition  as  Mrs.  Whaling  with  all  her 
meek  and  lowly  piety  was  to  conceive  of  Ray's  inno 
cence  of  the  various  charges  laid  at  his  door ;  but,  in 
the  absence  of  proof  to  the  contrary,  we  simply  place 

32* 


378  MARION'S  FAITH. 

before  the  patient  reader  Nellie  Ray  Rallston's  own 
statement :  that  her  husband  emerged  from  that  trying 
illness  a  very  different  man,  that  he  humbly  begged 
Will's  forgiveness  and  hers,  and  that  when  he  was  well 
enough  to  be  moved  home  he  had  grown  so  fond  of 
Will  that  he  could  not  bear  to  have  him  out  of  his 
sight,  and  that  he  was  rejoiced  when  orders  came  for 
Will  to  go  to  Chicago,  as  it  enabled  him  to  travel  with 
them  as  far  as  Omaha.  But  you  must  remember,  we 
feel  bound  to  say,  that  she  was  of  that  loyal  loving 
Kentucky  nature — singularly  like  her  brother  for  that 
matter — that  having  once  given  itself  in  its  entirety  to 
the  service  of  lover  or  friend,  is  apt  to  stick  to  it  through 
thick  and  thin.  We  may  be  pardoned — we  worldlings 
— for  doubting  as  yet  the  depth  and  sincerity  of  Rall 
ston's  repentance.  "  When  the  devil  was  ill,  the  devil 
a  saint  would  be,"  etc.  You  know  the  application ; 
but,  for  the  time  being,  Mrs.  Rallston  went  home  hap 
pier  than  she  had  been  for  ages. 

And  Ray  went  on  to  division  headquarters  at  Chicago, 
wondering  what  on  earth  was  up  now.  He  was  still 
on  leave,  still  clamoring  to  be  tried,  that  he  might  be 
cleared  of  those  charges  and  allowed  to  rejoin  his  regi 
ment.  His  wound  had  healed,  though  he  was  still  thin 
and  worn,  and  he  could  not  bear  to  think  that  there 
might  be  any  more  fighting  for  the  dear  old  — th  and  he 
not  there. 

But  Rand  had  taken  Rallston's  letters  and  some 
other  papers  with  him  to  Chicago,  as  directed,  and  the 
commanding  general  had  seen  in  less  than  no  time  what 
an  outrageous  case  had  been  built  up  against  a  young 
officer  whose  record  up  to  date  had  been  one  that  ap- 


VINDICATED.  379 

pealed  to  all  his  sympathies.  Ever  since  that  daring 
night  ride  Ray  had  been  an  object  of  the  liveliest  in 
terest  to  the  general, — himself  the  cavalry  leader  par 
excellence  of  his  day, — and  when  Rand  laid  before  him 
all  the  papers  in  the  case  there  was  an  eruption  that 
made  the  rafters  ring. 

But  when  it  came  to  cooling  down  and  acting  on  the 
case,  much  as  the  general  might  think  Ray  deserved  a 
triumphant  vindication  at  the  hands  of  a  court,  there 
were  a  dozen  things  to  make  it  impracticable.  To 
begin  with,  the  court  had  been  ordered  before  it  looked 
so  black  for  Crook's  command  and  the  Black  Hills 
settlers,  and  all  those  infantry  officers  who  were  on  the 
original  detail  were  now  plodding  up  to  Red  Cloud. 
The  division  was  wellnigh  stripped  of  everything  but 
staff-officers,  and  if  a  court  did  meet,  what  a  scoring  it 
might  give  old  Whaling  and  to  his  own  staff-officer,  who 
took  all  that  hearsay  talk  down  around  Leaven  worth 
and  never  gave  Ray's  friends  a  chance.  It  ended  in 
the  general's  impetuously  directing  that  the  court  be 
dissolved,  and  that  Ray  be  ordered  there  post-haste. 
"  I'll  vindicate  him  !"  he  said. 

And  he  did.  Ray's  pale,  anxious  face  turned  all 
sorts  of  colors  when  the  general  jumped  up  from  his 
chair  and  griped  his  hand  like  a  vise,  and  looked  into 
his  brave  young  eyes  and  said  things  to  him  that  filled 
them  with  tears  and  his  soul  with  confusion.  Ray  had 
no  words,  but  his  heart  was  full  of  a  delight  that  none 
but  soldiers  know,  and  the  lionizing  he  got  that  day  at 
division  headquarters  would  have  spoiled  many  another 
fellow.  The  general  could,  indeed,  "  vindicate"  him. 
He  showed  him  the  draft  of  the  letters  sent  to  the  regi- 


380  MARION'S  FAITH. 

ment,  and  asked  with  a  smile  if  he  didn't  think  that 
would  do  as  well  as  the  "  not  guilty"  of  a  court ;  and 
that  evening  Ray  took  the  westward  train  so  as  to  stop 
over  in  Omaha  one  night  and  see  JS"ell,  and  then  hurry 
on  by  the  Union  Pacific  to  Cheyenne.  His  heart  was 
bounding  with  hope,  with  pride,  with  gratitude  and 
joy ;  but  through  it  all  there  was  a  sense  of  something 
strange  and  new  to  him  that  tempered  every  feeling  of 
exultation.  He  had  been  tried  as  by  fire,  and  hum 
bled,  softened,  chastened  by  the  fierceness  of  the  flame. 
Even  bitterness  and  resentment  seemed  expelled  from 
his  soul.  Ray  was  a  changed,  a  graver  man.  All  that 
was  truthful,  gallant,  loyal  in  his  nature  was  there  yet, 
but  the  recklessness  of  the  past  was  gone. 

Many  letters  had  come  to  him  in  the  few  days  he  had 
spent  at  Denver  by  Rallston's  sick-bed,  and  while  Mrs. 
Stannard  had  frequently  written  to  tell  him  how  they 
all  were,  and  the  colonel  sent  a  courteously-worded  ex 
pression  of  his  regret  at  the  credence  he  had  given  to 
the  statements  of  a  brother  officer  and  what  he  termed 
the  "  misunderstandings"  of  the  summer,  Ray  was  most 
touched  at  Warner's  "  solid"  and  earnest  appeal  to  be 
regarded  as  a  friend  and  not  as  one  of  the  opposition. 

He  answered  promptly  and  cordially  everything  Mr. 
"Warner  wrote  with  a  single  exception.  The  young 
adjutant  was  requested  by  Colonel  Whaling  to  put  in 
a  word  or  two  for  the  Hibernian  quartermaster  whom 
Blake  had  cut  dead,  and  who  was  perturbed  in  spirit 
over  the  prospect  of  being  otherwise  lacerated  when 
Ray  got  back.  Warner  thought  that  the  colonel  or  the 
quartermaster  himself  should  make  the  proper  am-ende 
in  this  case,  but  the  latter  was  a  poor  hand  at  epistolary 


VINDICATED.  381 

expression,  and  the  former  had  long  been  a  pronounced 
adherent  of  that  "  divine  right  of "  commanding  officers 
which  makes  the  adjutant  the  transmitter  and  medium 
of  all  correspondence  involving  matters  of  delicate  or 
diplomatic  import.  If  the  result  be  successful,  all 
right.  It  was  written  by  direction  of  Colonel  So  and 
So,  and  is  presumably  his  own  wording.  If  it  fail, 
then  anybody  can  see  that  failure  is  due  solely  to  the 
clumsy  and  blockheaded  manipulation  of  the  adjutant. 

Mr.  Warner  conveyed  a  hope  that  the  quartermaster 
might  be  included  in  the  general  amnesty,  but  to  this 
Ray  made  no  response.  He  drew  the  line  at  those 
who  had  been  unkind  to  Dandy. 

And  now  he  was  hurrying  back  to  Russell  to  con 
duct  a  large  body  of  recruits  and  horses  up  to  "  the 
Hills"  to  meet  the  regiment ;  and  a  party  of  young  offi 
cers  had  joined,  many  of  them  graduates  of  that  very 
year's  class  at  the  Point,  young  fellows  whom  Mrs. 
Truscott  had  known  well  but  a  few  months  previous, 
when  they  wore  the  gray  under  Jack's  tuition  at  squad 
ron  drill  and  riding-hall  work.  Their  regiments  being 
in  the  field  on  active  campaign,  they  abandoned  much 
of  the  leave  of  absence  due  them  and  hastened  to  re 
port  for  duty.  Their  services  were  most  needed  in  get 
ting  the  recruits  into  shape,  and  here  they  were  at 
Russell  enthusiastic  at  the  prospect  of  seeing  Captain 
Truscott  again,  devoting  themselves  to  the  ladies  at  his 
army  home,  and  eager  to  a  man  to  see  and  know  Ray, 
whose  name  was  on  every  lip,  whom  every  man  of 
them  envied,  and  who  would  arrive  at  noon  on  the 
morrow. 

Mrs.  Stannard's  piazza  was  the  scene  of  a  levee  this 


382  MARIONS  FAITH. 

lovely,  sunshiny  autumn  afternoon.  She  was  there 
with  Miss  Sanford  and  Mrs.  Truscott,  who  was  reclin 
ing  in  a  comfortable  wicker  chair,  and  vastly  enjoying 
the  sunshine,  the  bracing  air,  and  above  all  the  merry 
chat  of  these  young  troopers,  and  envying  them  their 
northward  march.  Would  they  not  be  with  Jack  in  a 
fortnight  ?  Half  a  dozen  of  the  "  boys"  were  flocking 
around  the  ladies,  and  Blake  was  there  sprawling  over 
the  railing  as  was  his  wont,  and  convulsing  the  assem 
blage  every  now  and  then  with  his  outrageous  travesties 
and  declamatory  outbursts.  Blake  was  in  the  wildest 
possible  spirits.  He  was  bubbling  over  with  fun  and 
the  milk  of  human  kindness,  except  for  that  poor 
devil  of  a  quartermaster,  at  whom  he  scowled  diaboli 
cally  whenever  they  met.  He  had  forgiven  Mrs.  Tur 
ner,  who  was  quick  to  see  where  the  "  gang"  had  gath 
ered  that  afternoon,  and  was  early  on  hand  to  lure  the 
new  victims.  Already  she  was  making  a  deep  impres 
sion  on  Mr.  Corry,  who  was  gazetted  to  her  husband's 
troop,  and  was  fetching  him  farther  into  the  meshes 
with  every  glance  of  her  eyes.  And  then  came  Mrs. 
Whaling,  whom  Blake  hastened  to  meet,  and  with 
elaborate  genuflexions  to  usher  into  the  circle,  where 
she  was  speedily  seated  and  regaling  the  company  with 
her  views  on  the  chances  of  the  campaign.  It  being 
the  ardent  desire  of  every  cavalry  lady  in  garrison  that 
the  — th  should  be  ordered  thither  for  winter  quarters, 
Mrs.  Whaling  was  full  of  information  which  "the 
general"  had  received  from  confidential  sources  going 
to  prove  that  a  great  infantry  post  was  to  be  established 
there,  which  he  would  command,  while  the  cavalry  re 
mained  in  the  Hills  until  spring.  Blake  noted  the 


VINDICATED.  383 

silence  among  the  young  officers  and  the  anxious  look 
in  Mrs.  Truscott's  face  (Mrs.  Stannard  had  long  since 
ceased  to  be  influenced  by  Mrs.  Whaling's  statements), 
and  he  determined  on  a  diversion.  He  felt  morally  cer 
tain  that  the  only  "  confidential"  communication  the 
veteran  post  commander  had  received  from  any  superior 
in  a  week  was  the  stinging  rap  from  division  headquar 
ters  anent  the  bungle  he  had  made  in  Ray's  affair,  and 
on  general  principles  he  felt  that  he  couldn't  let  an  op 
portunity  slip. 

"  Oh,  come  now,  Mrs.  Whaling,  don't  crush  all  the 
hopes  we  had  of  spending  the  winter  with  you  here. 
1  Lady,  you  are  the  cruellest  she  alive'  if  you  will  lead 
us  to  believe  such  ill  report,  and  here  we  were  all  re 
joicing  that  Ray  comes  to-morrow." 

"  Oh  !  Mr.  Ray,  to  be  sure  !  and  how  delightful  it  is 
to  think  that  he  has  justified  all  our  confidence  in  him  ! 
He  returns  like — a — the  Bayard  of  old ;  the  chevalier 
sans  peur  et — et " 

"  Sans  culotte  f  suggested  Blake. 

"  Ah,  yes ;  thanks  !  Mr.  Blake.  As  though  I  could 
have  forgotten  it  for  a  moment !  Quite  like  the  cheva 
lier  sans  peur  et  sans  culotte.  Such  a  knightly  fellow  as 
he  always  was  !" 

'-  Oh,  Lord,  yes  !  All  nightly,  especially  when  the 
iuck  ran  his  way." 

"  Now,  Mr.  Blake,  how  you  distort  my  meaning  !" 

"  Madame,  you  do  me  wrong,  notorious  wrong  !  I 
did  but  echo  the  words  you  spake  a  week  agone.  You 
marvel  at  my  meaning.  Nay,  then,  'tis  not  less  strange 
and  weird  than  the  tongue  in  which  you  tell  of  his  per 
fections  ;  less  bizarre,  if  you  Witt  have  French." 


384  MARIONS  FAITH. 

"Mr.  Blake,  you  tilt  at  wind-mills."  ("Gad! 
that's  neat !"  quoth  he,  sotto  voce.)  "  I  never  said 
anything  about  a  bazaar,  though  that  reminds  me  that 
every  one  of  you  gentlemen  should  go  to  town  and  do 
something  for  the  church  before  you  leave.  The  fair 
has  been  going  on  two  days  now,  and  not  one  of 
you  has  spent  a  cent  there.  And  they  so  need  an  or- 
gan " 

"Mrs.  Whaling,  tell  them  to  have  Jarley's  wax 
works,  and  you'll  be  Mrs.  Jarley — or  Mrs.  Partington  ; 
I'll  be  John  or  Ike, — I  don't  care  which, — and  their 
fortune's  made,"  said  Blake,  shaking  with  laughter ;  so, 
too,  was  Mrs.  Stannard  behind  the  palm-leaf  fan  which 
concealed,  at  least,  her  face.  Miss  Sanford,  biting  her 
lips,  looked  reproachfully  at  Blake,  and  Mrs.  Truscott 
hid  her  face  in  her  hands. 

"Now,  Mr.  Blake!"  protested  Mrs.  Turner,  "you 
never  have  been  in  town  to  church  since  your  coming 
here,  and  it's  shocking  the  way  you  officers  neglect  it. 
I'm  sure  I've  offered  to  drive  you  in  with  me  a  dozen 
times." 

"  True,  fair  lady ;  but  those  eminently  safe  animals 
of  yours  take  an  hour  to  traverse  the  intermediate 
league.  I  have  to  get  up  too  early." 

"  But  Mr.  Ray  went  once ;  though,  to  be  sure,  Miss 
Sanford  and  Mrs.  Stannard  brought  that  about." 

"  Oh,  yes  !  and  came  home  sold.  He  never  would 
have  gone  only  he  heard  that  the  text  was  to  be  from 
the  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  and  he  thought  it  was  some 
new  wrinkle  in  cavalry  tactics." 

"  Mr.  Blake,  you  are  simply  outrageous  !"  "  Wretch  !" 
"  Shocking  !"  and  a  volley  of  like  exclamations  greeted 


VINDICATED.  385 

this  outburst.  Mrs.  Stannard  rose  from  her  chair  and 
shook  her  fan  at  him. 

"  You  shall  not  teach  so  irreverent  a  doctrine  here ! 
Mr.  Ray  went  gladly,  and  was  far  more  devout  and 
reverential  in  church  than  some  of  the  ladies." 

"Any  man  could  be  devout  sitting  next  to  Miss 
Sanford,"  he  persisted ;  but  seeing  no  sign  of  levity  in 
her  face,  and  that  her  blue  eyes  were  bent  upon  him 
"  in  pity  rather  than  anger,"  he  abruptly  changed  his 
tone  to  one  of  melo-dramatic  gravity. 

"  «  Lady  Clara  Vere  de  Vere, 

I  cannot  stand  and  face  thy  frown.' 

I'm  not  appreciated.  I  must  betake  myself  to  other 
fields.  Ladies,  when  I  get  in  a  gale  it  takes  some 
thing  sterner  than  feminine  rebuke  to  stop  me.  I'll 
away  and  see  Mrs.  Wilkins.  She  likes  it.  If  aught 
I've  said  to  wound  thee,"  he  continued,  bowing  with 
hand  on  his  heart  in  front  of  Miss  Sanford,  "re 
member,  Miss  De  Vere,  in  the  words  of  your  favorite 
Tennyson, — 

'  The  cold  upon  your  old  stone  gates, 
Is  not  more  lyin'  to  you  than  I.'  " 

"  Did  you  ever  know  such  a  rattlepate  ?"  exclaimed 
Mrs.  Turner,  as  the  long  legs  went  striding  down  the 
row,  and  the  young  officers  sat  gazing  after  him  in 
wonderment. 

"  Never,"  replied  Mrs.  Stannard ;  "  and  yet  he  has 
as  true  a  heart  and  as  tender  a  nature  as  almost  any 
man  I  know.  There  was  no  fun  in  him  while  Mr. 
Ray  was  in  trouble ;  and  no  more  devoted  and  loyal 

\       z  33 


386  MARIONS  FAITH. 

friend  could  he  find.      I  like  Mr.  Blake,  and  always 
have  liked  him." 

But  Mrs.  Whaling  shook  her  head.  "No  right- 
principled  young  man  could  speak  so  lightly  of  sacred 
things.  Ah  !  here  comes  the  orderly  with  the  mail." 
And  as  she  spoke  the  trim  young  soldier  entered  the 
gate  carrying  his  budget  of  letters.  Mrs.  Whaling 
stretched  forth  her  hand  to  take  the  packet. 

"  Please,  ma'am,"  said  he,  "  I  left  yours  at  the  col- 
onePs,  and  my  orders  is  not  to  give  the  others  to  any 
body  but  them  as  they  belongs  to." 

"  I  will  distribute  them  here,  orderly,"  she  replied, 
with  a  superior  smile,  "  as  I  know  all  these  ladies  and 
gentlemen  and  you  do  not."  She  was  determined  to 
see  who  received  letters  and  from  whom,  if  a  possible 
thing,  and  she  carried  her  point.  Most  of  them  were 
for  the  officers.  Nothing  came  as  yet  from  the  regi 
ment.  Mrs.  Truscott  received  two  or  three  letters  from 
the  East,  which  were  not  handed  her  until  the  self-ap 
pointed  postmistress  had  scrutinized  the  superscrip 
tions  ;  so,  too,  she  inspected  the  bills  and  billets  that 
came  to  the  young  subs,  and  two  letters  for  Miss  San- 
ford, — one  from  New  York,  the  other,  addressed  in  a 
bold,  vigorous  hand,  was  from  Headquarters,  Division 
of  the  Missouri,  Chicago.  At  this,  through 

"  All  her  autumn  tresses  falsely  brown," 

she  shot  sidelong  daggers,  indeed,  as  she  passed  it  with 
significant  smile. 

"  I  thought  he'd  write  even  though  to-morrow  would 
bring  him  here  himself,"  she  said ;  and  Miss  Sanford 
bit  her  lip  and  colored  far  more  in  indignation  than  in 


VINDICATED.  387 

confusion  ;  but,  rallying  like  the  little  heroine  she  was, 
and  bent  now  on  baffling  the  schemes  of  the  wily  inter 
loper,  she  quickly  leaned  forward  and  took  the  letter, 
glanced  brightly  at  Mrs.  Stannard,  and  exclaimed,  with 
all  the  delight  and  naivete  of  genuine  surprise, — 

"  Why,  it  is  for  me,  Mrs.  Stannard  !  Now  you  shall 
not  see  a  line  of  it,  for  you  would  not  show  me  yours." 
And  then  with  provoking  coolness,  while  Grace  gasped 
in  admiration  and  astonishment,  Marion  opened  and 
read  with  beaming  smile  her  letter  from  Ray, — the 
only  one  ho  had  time  to  write  in  Chicago. 

It  was  very  brief,  yet  when  'twas  finished  she  wished, 
with  all  her  heart,  she  could  escape  to  her  own  room 
and  read  it  once  again,  all  by  herself.  It  was  the  first 
letter — in  the  least  like  it — she  ever  received.  It  made 
her  pulses  bound,  and  it  put  her  mettle  to  the  test  to 
turn  at  once  to  conversation  with  the  one  youth  who 
had  received  no  letter.  It  made  her  long  for  stable- 
call  to  sound  that  she  might  be  alone  and  read  it  again 
and  again,  and  yet  it  was  very,  very  simple  and  direct. 
The  trumpets  rang  their  signal  soan  enough.  The 
young  cavalrymen  doffed  their  caps  and  scurried  away. 
Mrs.  Stannard,  smiling  knowingly,  said  she  would  take 
a  walk  with  Mrs.  Turner,  -  and  then  the  two  school 
friends  were  left  alone. 

"  Maidie,  what  does  he  say  ?" 

"Let  me  read  it  quietly,  Grace  dear.  I  couldnt 
there." 

She  had  not  seen  him  since  sending  that  very,  very 
outspoken  letter  the  afternoon  after  he  was  taken  to 
Cheyenne,  and  the  letter  he  had  written  in  answer  to 
that  was  full  of  gratitude  for  her  faith  in  him, — full 


388  MARION'S  FAITH. 

of  assurance  that  with  such  words  as  those  to  cheer  him 
he  would  bear  his  further  trials  as  became  a  man,  but, 
until  fully  vindicated  of  every  charge,  he  would  not 
return  to  Russell  and  could  not  hope  to  see  her ;  but, 
once  freed  from  the  odium  of  any  and  every  allegation 
affecting  his  integrity,  he  should  come  to  thank  her  in 
person  for  the  strength  and  comfort  her  beautiful  letter 
had  given  him. 

And  now — he  was  coming.  He  could  not  wait  for 
his  own  arrival,  since  he  had  to  stop  over  one  day.  The 
instant  he  left  the  colonel's  presence  he  had  asked  for  a 
desk  in  the  aide-de-camp's  room,  had  penned  a  few 
hasty  lines  to  her  first  of  all,  had  hurried  with  them 
to  the  Rock  Island  Depot,  only  a  few  squares  away, 
that  they  might  catch  the  mail  just  starting,  and  she — 
she  who  had  proved  so  gallantly  her  faith  in  him,  be 
the  first  to.  know  of  his  complete  vindication.  Ray 
never  wrote  such  a  letter  in  his  life  before  : 

"  Only  thirty  minutes  before  the  westward  mail  starts, 
and  this  moment  I  have  come  unnerved  and  weak  from 
the  presence  of  the  general  with  the  fullest  vindication 
man  could  ask.  In  the  first  glow  of  thoughtful  ness 
my  thoughts  turn  instantly  to  you.  May  God  bless 
you  for  the  words  that  came  to  bless  me  in  my  darkest 
hours  !  May  He  teach  me  to  show  you — I  can  never 
tell  it — the  infinite  value  of  your  words  to  me  !  May 
He  so  guide  my  future  that,  henceforth,  my  life  shall 
prove  worthy  the  trust  you  placed  in  me  !  Until  it  has, 
in  some  measure,  so  redeemed  the  past,  I  may  not  say 
more.  Only  this :  you,  before  all  the  world,  I  desire 
to  know  of  my  acquittal  of  every  allegation.  To- 


VINDICATED.  389 

morrow  I  shall  hope  to  see  you  before  we  march,  for  I 
shall  go  at  once  to  the  regiment.  There  may  be  little 
opportunity  for  words  even  if  I  dared  trust  myself  to 
speak.  Last  time,  in  laughing  talk,  it  was  agreed  that 
I  should  wear  your  colors ;  but  now,  even  your  will 
would  be  powerless  to  prevent  me,  for  my  heart  and 
soul  are  pledged  to  them  forever. 

"  WILLIAM  P.  KAY." 

Nor  did  he  mean  to  "  say  more"  when  writing  that 
letter.  He  meant  that  she — he  did  not  care  who  else 
—  should  know  that  the  thought  of  her  friendship  and 
faith  had  been  his  mainstay  in  the  troubles  which  had 
so  suddenly  involved  his  life  and  wellnigh  wrecked 
him.  He  wanted  her  to  know,  and  he  did  not  care  who 
knew,  that  from  this  time  forth  he  was  her  knight, 
sworn  to  her  service,  and  bound  to  her  by  a  tie  he 
could  not  break  if  he  would.  Seldom  as  they  had  met, 
there  had  been  from  the  first  a  halo  of  romance  about 
their  association,  and  she  had  come  to  be,  even  before 
he  could  realize  it,  the  one  fair  woman  in  whom  was 
centred  the  fealty  and  devotion  of  his  loyal  nature. 
He  dare  not  hope :  he  would  not  expect  that  one  like 
her  could  so  soon,  so  unsought,  unwooed,  have  learned 
to  look  upon  him  as  anything  more  than  a  friend  whose 
loyalty  to  Grace,  her  one  intimate,  and  whose  friend 
ship  for  Mrs.  Stannard  had  conspired  to  make  him  an 
object  of  interest  in  their  daily  talk.  With  the  humility 
of  true  manhood  he  well  knew  that  his  name,  clouded 
with  the  recklessness  and  debts  of  his  past  life,  was  not 
one  that  he  dare  lay  at  her  feet ;  but  this,  too,  he  knew, 
and  knew  well,  and  would  have  faced  the  world  to  own 

33* 


390  MARION'S  FAITH. 

it  as  fearlessly  as  he  faced  a  foe  :  he  loved  her,  and,  as 
yet,  could  ask  nothing  in  return. 

And  yet,  when  Blake  met  him  at  the  station  next 
day,  and  they  drove  rapidly  out  over  the  hard  prairie 
roads,  and  he  saw  again  the  white  peaks  in  the  south 
and  the  sunlight  dancing  over  the  distant  slopes,  and 
the  flag  waving  aloft  over  the  dingy  brown  buildings  of 
the  post,  and  his  heart  beat  with  eager  joy  at  thought 
of  seeing  her  again,  of  touching  that  soft  white  hand 
and  looking  down  into  the  depths  of  her  clear,  truthful 
eyes,  and  studying  the  face  that,  lovely  always,  had 
grown  exquisite  in  beauty  to  him,  he  wondered  how 
he  could  meet  her,  how  he  could  speak  to  her,  and  con 
trol  the  longing  to  implore  her  to  overlook  his  past 
life  with  its  follies  and  its  sins,  and  let  him  prove  to 
her  how  strong  and  steadfast  he  could  be  if  she  would 
but  bid  him  hope.  And  then  he  set  his  teeth  and 
tossed  his  head, — the  old  Ray-like  gesture, — and  vowed 
that  without  a  single  word  of  hope  she  should  see  how 
the  faith  of  "  one  fair  woman"  had  changed  his  whole 
life.  He  could  hardly  answer  Blake's  eager,  enthusi 
astic  talk.  He  could  hardly  hear  what  he  was  saying 
until  he  caught  the  words  "  To-morrow  morning,  four 
hundred  recruits,  five  hundred  horses,  and  you  go  in 
command." 

So  soon,  then  ?  And  yet  'twas  what  he  had  prayed 
for.  He  was  eager  to  see  the  dear  old  regiment  again. 
He  knew  well  how  many  faces  of  officers  and  men 
would  light  up  in  welcome  at  his  coming.  In  all  the 
misery  of  the  past  month  he  had  almost  forgotten  that 
in  July  he  was  with  them  at  the  front.  How  very  far 
away  that  night  ride  seemed, — the  ride  that  Wayne's 


VINDICATED.  391 

and  Truscott's  fellows  at  least  had  not  forgotten  !  It 
made  him  think  of  Dandy,  and  he  questioned  eagerly 
if  Dandy  were  still  there. 

"  Still  there  ?  You  bet  he  is,  Billy  !  Hogan's  heart 
will  break  if  you  don't  say  first  thing  that  he  looks 
better  than  he  ever  did  in  his  life." 

"  Why  !  How  is  it  that  Hogan  has  him  again  ?  1 
don't  understand." 

"  Why  ?  You  can't  go  without  a  horse,  man,  and 
as  commanding  officer  of  the  whole  crowd  you  would 
be  entitled  to  your  choice.  I  thought  you'd  rather  have 
Dandy,  and  so  said.  You  can  take  another  if  you  want 
to ;  there  are  lots  of  them,  and  beauties.  Now  we're 
to  go  to  Mrs.  Stannard's  for  'dinner  at  once.  Shall  we 
ntop  and  knock  off  the  dust  ?" 

They  were  whirling  in  at  the  fort  gate,  the  gate 
through  which  he  had  last  driven  a  prisoner  in  the 
grasp  of  the  law.  The  broad  parade  was  covered  with 
squads  of  recruits  drilling  busily  and  with  knots  of 
young  officers,  who  looked  eagerly  at  Blake  and  the 
dark-eyed  young  gentleman  in  gray  by  his  side.  Along 
the  row  were  many  of  the  ladies  of  the  garrison  and 
romping  children,  all  of  whom  nodded  and  smiled  and 
waved  their  hands  as  they  flashed  by. 

"  Quick,  Billy,"  said  Blake,  between  his  set  teeth. 
"  Out  with  you  and  into  the  house,  unless  you  want  to 
be  snared  by  Mrs.  Turner.  Oh,  by  the  Lord  !  Here 
she  comes,  and  Mrs.  Whaling,  too.  Scoot !" 

And  Ray  sprang  from  the  light  wagon,  and  lifting 
his  hat  in  salute  to  the  ladies  who  were  hastening  down 
the  walk,  he  darted  into  the  house, — into  the  coel, 
darkened  rooms  which  he  had  last  seen  when  there  was 


392  MARION'S  FAITH. 

not  a  spark  of  comfort,  of  hope,  or  love  in  a  world  of 
black  despair.  And  now,  here  was  Hogan, — all  joy 
and  welcome  and  delight.  There  lay  the  "  swell'7  un 
dress  uniform,  his  cap  and  gloves  and  little  walking 
switch,  all  in  readiness  on  the  bed,  and  not  until  he 
became  accustomed  to  the  dim  light  after  the  glare  of 
the  Wyoming  sun,  and  the  mists  of  emotion  had  begun 
to  clear  away,  could  he  see  that  Hogan's  blue-gray  eyes 
were  wet,  and  that  he  was  ready  to  break  down  again 
with  sheer  ecstasy.  Ray  laughed,  the  real  old,  joyous, 
ringing  laugh  again,  as  he  gripped  the  faithful  Irish 
man's  hand. 

"Why,  Hogan,  old  fellow.  It's  good  to  see  you 
again  ;  and  so  Dandy  is  nere,  too,  is  he  ?" 

"  He  is,  sir,  and  it's  he  that'll  be  glad  to  have  you 
on  his  back  again.  Oh,  murther !  Did  the  lootenant 
tell  ye  how  he  dumped  the  quarthermasther  in  the 
creek?  IL*  didn't? " 

"  Come,  Billy.  No  time  to  lose.  Mrs.  Stannard's 
waiting  for  you.  She  had  early  dinner,  as  there's  to 
be  a  farewell  hop  to-night,  and  Fve  seen  the  colonel 
and  you  needn't  report  until  afterwards.  Come, 
man,"  called  Blake,  hurrying  in ;  and  so  Hogan's 
ecstasies  were  cut  short,  and  in  a  few  moments  more 
Mrs.  Stannard's  beaming  face  welcomed^  them  at  the 
door,  and  both  her  hands  were  cordially  clasping  Ray's, 
and  yet — somehow,  drawing  him  in  and  passing  him 
along  into  the  little  parlor,  while  she  herself  remained 
volubly  chatting  with  Blake,  who  did  not  pass  the 
portals  with  any  rapidity  at  all.  Ray  never  could 
realize,  much  less  explain  it,  but  in  another  moment  he 
was  standing  in  the  little  parlor,  and  Marion  Sanford. 


VINDICATED.  393 

lovely  in  her  grace  and  beauty,  lovely  in  her  shyly 
welcoming  smile,  lovely  in  the  soft  flush  that  had 
mantled  her  bonny  face,  was  slowly  rising  from  her 
chair  to  welcome  him.  All  she  said  was  "  Mr.  Ray  !" 
as  with  trembling  hands  he  quickly  seized  the  cool, 
white,  plump  little  member  that  was  half  extended  to 
greet  him,  and — he  could  not  speak ;  he  knew  not 
what  to  say  or  do ;  he  longed-  for  the  first  time  in  his 
life  to  kneel  at  a  woman's  feet  and  press  her  hand  to 
his  lips,  but  that  would  be  an  unwarrantable  demon 
stration  in  these  conventional  days.  He  simply  bowed 
low,  held  it  one  lingering  moment  in  both  his, — she 
must  have  felt  their  eager  trembling, — and  then,  with 
out  the  kiss  for  which  his  soul  was  longing,  reluc 
tantly  let  it  go  and  looked  once  into  her  eyes. 

"Miss — Marion,  I — cannot  tell  you  how  glad  I  am 
to  see  you !"  Low-toned,  heartfelt,  eager,  they  were 
all  he  dare  say.  He  meant  to  be  true  to  his  resolve, 
and  to  prove  his  worth  and  his  gratitude  by  something 
better  than  words.  And  for  once  at  least  in  his  gallant 
debonair  life,  Ray  was  mute  and  at  a  loss  in  a  woman's 
presence.  He  was  indeed  conquered, — heart  and  soul. 

A  delightful  dinner  they  had,  that  little  partie  carree  ; 
Mrs.  Truscott  had  declined,  because  she  said  one  more 
woman  would  spoil  it  all,  and  she  wanted  to  write  to 
Jack.  And  then  Ray  had  to  go  and  see  the  colonel 
and  have  a  long  talk  with  him  about  the  big  command 
he  was  to  take  north  on  the  morrow,  and  to  shake 
hands  gravely  with  the  embarrassed  veteran,  and  cor 
dially  and  gladly  with  Warner,  and  to  welcome  the 
dozen  handsome,  soldierly,  enthusiastic  young  gradu 
ates,  who  came  in  a  body  to  call  and  pay  their  respects 


394  MARIONS  FAITH. 

and   tell   their   young   commander   how  their   recruit 
companies  were  doing ;  and  then  there  were  a  host  of 
other  affairs  to  attend  to,  and  an  inspection  of  all  the 
five  hundred  horses  that  were  to  bear  them  northward 
in  the  morning,  and  afterwards  the  four  hundred  re 
cruits  who  were  to  go  to  the  cavalry  regiments  with 
him.     And  then  came  retreat  parade,  and  the  solemn 
dinner  with  the  colonel  and  his  amiable  better  half,  a 
dinner  which  seemed   interminable,  but  which  was  as 
much  a  duty  as  attending  roll-call,  and  so  it  was  late 
when  he  could  get  into  full-dress  uniform  and  go  over 
to  the  hop  and  see  her  once  again.     Warner,  lucky 
devil,   was  to  be  her  escort,   and   the  young  officers 
would  have  taken  every  dance  but  for  the  waltz  he 
found  courage  to  ask  for  at  dinner.     How  he  rebelled 
at  the  idea  of  having  to  escort  Mrs.  Whaling !     Still, 
it  was  all  part  of  his  self-imposed  penance,  thought  he, 
with  a  grave,  quiet  smile,  as  Hogan  was  helping  him 
to  dress,  and  the  strains  of  the  dance  music  came  float 
ing  witchingly  over  the  parade.     He  had  only  time  to 
see  Dandy  one  moment,  to  pet  and   fondle  him  and 
praise  his  beautiful  condition  (to  Hogan's  delight),  and 
then,  just  as  tattoo  was  sounding,  there  came  into  the 
room  the  quartermaster's  clerk  with  some  papers  for 
his  signature. 

"  What  are  these  ?"  he  asked  in  surprise.  "  Requisi 
tion  for  forage  for  one  private  horse,  the  property  ot 
First  Lieutenant  William  P.  Ray,  — th  Cavalry. 
Why,  man  !  I  own  no  horse. " 

"  Them's  the  quartermaster's  orders,  sir.  Lieutenant 
Biake  got  permission  to  buy  the  horse.  It's  Dandy, 
sir,  but  he  said  as  how  it  was  yours,  and  you'd  sign  thfi 


VINDICATED.  395 

papers  directly  you  got  back.     The  forage  was  issued 
on  that  understanding," 

"  Slmre  it's  all  thrue,  sir/'  said  Hogan.  "  Dandy 
was  bought  last  week,  sir,  and  I  thought  as  how  Mr. 
Blake  had  told  you." 

Kay  said  no  word  more.  His  eyes  were  filling ;  he 
signed  the  papers,  finished  dressing  in  silence,  escorted 
Mrs.  Whaling  with  entire  civility,  and  never  heard  a 
word  she  said  though  she  talked  volubly  every  inch  of 
the  way ;  and  once  at  the  hop-room  and  he  could  break 
loose  from  Mrs.  Turner,  who  seized  him  to  upbraid  him 
for  not  stopping  to  speak  to  her,  and  to  tell  him  she 
had  saved  three  dances  expressly  for  him,  and  she  had 
such  a  host  of  things  she  wanted  to  tell  him,  and  she 
had  been  hearing  such  a  host  of  things  about  him,  etc., 
°tc.,  he  found  Blake  and  caught  him  by  the  sleeve. 

"  No  dodging  now,  Blakey.  Who  bought  Dandy  ? 
Who  gave  him  to  me  ?" 

"  Well— dang  it !  I  did.     Haven't  I  a  right  to  ?" 

"  No,  old  man  ;  and,  forgive  my  saying  it,  you  and 
I  cannot  afford  such  presents.  What  was  he  ap 
praised  at  ?" 

a  Oh,  they  fixed  it  low  ;  because  he  was  to  be  yours, 
you  know.  I  got  him  for  two  hundred." 

"  But,  Blake,  you  hadn't  ten  dollars  when  I  went 
away.  I  know  full  well  how  much  I  owe  you  in  this 
matter.  Bless  you,  old  man  !  But — the  truth  now. 
You  can  afford  to  tell  me  when  I  say  I  must  know 
before  it  comes  to  saying  good-night  to  her.  What 
had  Miss  Sanford  to  do  with  it  ?" 

"  Everything,  Billy." 


396  MARION'S  FAITH. 

CHAPTEE  XXVIII. 

THE   COLORS    ENTWINE. 

SHE  wad  talking  brightly  with  a  knot  of  half  a 
dozen  young  officers,  all  clamoring  for  "  extras,"  when, 
soft  and  sweet,  the  strains  of  "  Immortellen,"  that  love 
liest  of  GungPs  waltzes,  floated  on  the  air,  and  Ray 
stood  there  before  her. 

"  My  waltz,  Miss  Sanford.  Can  I  claim  you  in  face 
of  such  an  array  of  aspirants  ?" 

She  rested  her  hand  on  his  arm,  nodding  blithely  to 
the  group,  and  calling  laughingly  back  to  them  as  he 
led  her  away.  Then  she  noticed  how  silent  he  was, 
and  for  the  first  time  looked  up  in  his  face. 

"  You  have  not  been  dancing,  Mr.  Kay  ?" 

"  No,  Miss  Marion ;  and  it  was  a  piece  of  selfishness 
in  me  to  ask  this.  I  have  not  danced  since  coming 
back  from  the  Cheyenne,  and  yet — I  could  not  go  with 
out  one.  Shall  we  try  ?" 

Will  he  ever  forget  her  as  she  looked  that  night  ? 
How  gloriously  deep  and  soft  and  tender  were  her  eyes, 
how  wavy  and  rippling  her  hair,  how  exquisite  the 
delicate  tints  of  her  complexion,  how  rich,  how  lovely 
the  warmth  of  her  parted  lips  !  Her  dress  seemed  as 
airy,  as  fair  as  her  own  quiet  grace.  For  the  life  of  him 
he  could  not  describe  it,  but  it  was  the  first  time  he  had 
seen  her  in  evening  attire,  and  Marion  Sanford's  neck 
and  shoulders  and  arms  were  perfect, — fair  and  white 


THE   COLORS  ENTWINE.  397 

and  round  and  lovelier  than  an  angel's,  thought  Ray, 
as  his  glowing  eyes  looked  down  in  rapture  upon  her. 
She  had  glanced  up  in  his  face  as  he  spoke,  but  his 
eyes  met  hers  with  such  uncontrollable  worship  in  their 
gaze  that  she  could  not  face  them.  His  arm  twined 
lightly  about  her  waist,  and  without  a  further  word 
they  swung  away  in  the  long,  gliding  measure  that 
seemed  so  perfectly  in  accord  with  the  spirit  of  the 
dreamy  music.  She  danced  lightly  as  a  fairy  ;  "  guided/1 
as  he  would  have  said,  "  with  the  faintest  touch  of  the 
rein,"  and  he  forgot  the  stiffness  of  the  wounded  thigh, 
and  everything  else  but  that,  to  the  music  of  all  others 
he  fancied  most  (surely  the  leader  had  an  unusual  fit 
of  inspiration  that  night),  he  was  dancing  at  last  with 
the  girl  whose  beauty  enthralled  his  every  sense,  whose 
loyalty  to  him  in  all  his  troubles  had  won  his  undying 
gratitude,  and  whom  he  loved,  humbly  'tis  true,  yet 
thrillingly,  passionately.  He  never  saw  that  all  over 
the  ball-room  curious  eyes  were  watching  eagerly. 
Hers  were  downcast,  while  his  were  fixed  almost  in 
adoration  on  her  face.  Sweeter,  softer,  dreamier  rose 
and  fell  the  exquisite  strains.  Will  he  ever  forget  the 
"  Immortellen"  ?  Soft  ripples  of  her  hair  were  drifting 
close  to  his  lips.  Their  delicate  fragrance  stole  over  his 
senses  like  a  spell.  He  felt  the  light  pressure  of  her 
tiny  hand  upon  his  arm,  and  envied  the  dead  gold  of 
his  shoulder-knot,  wThen  once,  as  they  reversed  and  a 
quick  turn  was  necessary  to  avoid  collision  with  a 
bulkier  couple,  her  flushing  cheek  had  rested  one  in 
stant  upon  it.  He  could  not  speak ;  a  lump  rose  in 
his  throat  and  his  heart  beat  wildly.  What  could  it 
mean  ?  what  could  it  mean  ?  this  strange  thing  Blake 

34 


MARION'S  FAITH. 

had  confessed  to  him  ?  She — she  had  bought  Dandy 
to  give  to  him  ?  He  must  find  words  to  thank  her, 
but  how  could  he  without  betraying  all  ? 

Such  silence  could  not  last.  Even  in  the  thrilling 
instant  of  an  avowal  the  woman  does  not  live  who  so 
far  forgets  herself  as  to  be  insensible  to  the  gaze  of 
lookers-on.  Totally  ignorant  of  the  extent  of  his 
knowledge,  since  she  had  charged  Blake  that  it  was  all 
to  be  kept  a  profound  secret ;  thinking  only  of  the 
necessity  of  breaking  that  treacherous,  betraying  silence, 
she  summoned  her  courage,  and,  looking  up  one  instant, 
she  made  some  laughing  allusion  to  the  fact  that  Mrs. 
Turner  would  never  forgive  him  if  he  left  without 
dancing  with  her ;  and,  indeed,  he  must  dance  with  Miss 
Whaling,  since  he  had  dined  there  that  evening. 

"  I  will  try.  I  will  do  anything  you  ask  or  suggest ; 
only,  Miss  Marion,  we  march  at  eight  to-morrow  morn 
ing.  Come  with  me  to  the  gallery  one  minute.  I  must 
speak  to  you." 

So  after  all  she  had  only  precipitated  matters.  He 
had  ceased  waltzing  directly  opposite  one  of  the  open 
doors,  and,  without  waiting  for  reply,  with  the  quick 
decision  that  so  marked  him  at  times,  he  led  her,  speech 
less,  from  the  room,  snatching  up  a  cavalry  cape  from 
a  chair,  and  this,  as  they  stepped  out  on  the  low  wooden 
piazza,  he  threw  over  her  shoulders.  Several  other 
couples  were  promenading  slowly  up  and  down,  or  gaz 
ing  in  at  the  dancers.  He  led  her  rapidly  past  all  these 
until  they  came  to  the  end  of  the  platform,  and  there, 
with  the  moonlight  shining  full  on  his  eager  features, 
Ray  turned  and  faced  his  fate.  She  knew  he  was 
trembling ;  she  knew  his  voice  was  low  and  broken  and 


THE    COLORS  ENTWINE.  399 

husky.  His  words  had  been  hardly  audible  to  her  in 
the  hop-room,  but  his  emotion  any  woman  could  see. 
Oh,  how  white  and  cold  and  still  the  distant  mountains 
shone  in  the  pallid  light !  Oh,  how  silent,  peaceful, 
deserted,  the  far-away  slopes  and  ridges  over  the  prairie  ! 
Oh,  how  faint  and  far  and  glimmering  were  the  night 
lights  of  the  stars,  dimmed  into  nothingness  by  the 
broad,  brilliant,  overwhelming  radiance  of  the  Queen 
of  Heaven  !  Oh,  how  sweet,  luring,  love-lighting  were 
those  witching  waltz  strains  floating  out  upon  the  breath 
less  air !  Oh,  how  warm  and  close  was  the  pressure 
of  his  strong  arm  as  it  held  her  hand  upon  his  beating 
heart !  Knowing — well  knowing  what  must  be  com 
ing,  powerless,  even  if  determined  to  check  him,  she 
bowed  her  sweet  face,  and  the  young  soldier's  surging 
love  words  broke,  low,  tremulous,  but  irresistible,  upon 
her  listening  ears. 

"  God  knows  I  meant  to  hide  as  yet,  until  my  life 
could  have  shown  the  influence  you  and  your  blessed 
faith  have  had. — God  knows  I  meant  to  have  striven 
to  show  myself  worthy  before  coming  to  say  what  now 
I  cannot  restrain  ;  but  to-night  the  truth  came  out  that 
to  you  I  owe  my  pet,  my  Dandy.  No  ;  let  me  speak," 
he  went  on,  impetuously,  as  for  one  instant  she  raised 
her  head  as  though  to  check  him ;  he  had  seized  her 
hand,  too,  and  held  it  down  there  under  the  folds  of 
that  happy  cavalry  cape.  "  I  ask  nothing.  I  know 
I've  no  right  to  hope  or  expect  anything  as  yet.  You 
have  blessed  me  infinitely  beyond  my  deserts  already ; 
but  now  I  could  not  go,  I  could  not  go  without  giving 
you  to  do  with  as  you  will  the  only  thing  on  earth  I 
have  to  offer, — my  heart,  Marion.  Oh.  my  darling,  my 


400  MARION'S  FAITH. 

darling,  don't  shrink  from  me !  Listen,  sweet  one. 
There  can  be  no  wrong,  no  shame  in  your  knowing 
that  I  love  you,  love  you  beyond  any  power  of  mine  to 
tell  you.  Were  I  to  go  now,  after  all  you  have  done 
for  me,  and  hide  all  this  simply  because  I  did  not  and 
could  not  hope  you  would  return  it, — yet,  I  would  hang 
my  head  in  shame.  The  man  who  loves  as  I  do  must 
tell  it,  no  matter  what  the  answer  be." 

And  then  there  was  a  moment's  silence,  through 
which  she  could  plainly  hear  the  loud  beating  of  his 
heart,  in  which  she  could  not  find  words  to  speak,  and 
yet  there  lay  her  hand  in  his,  since  it  wras  powerless  to 
check  him. 

"  Have  I  startled  you,  Marion  ?"  he  whispered  low. 
"  Did  you  not  read  much  of  this  in  my  letter  ?" 

She  looked  bravely  up  in  his  eyes.  Her  own  were 
full  of  unshed  tears.  Her  sweet  face  was  lovely  in  the 
pale  moonlight,  and  as  once  more  she  saw  the  worship 
in  his  eyes,  the  flush  of  joy,  pride, — of  what  else  could 
it  be  ? — again  mantled  her  soft  cheeks.  She  made  no 
effort  to  withdraw  her  hand. 

"  I  have  no  right  to  be  startled,  Mr.  Ray.  I  could 
not  but  see  something  of  this  all  in  your  letter,  though 
that  might  have  been  attributed  to  a  very  unnecessary 
gratitude.  But  I  would  not  have  you  think  any  tiling 
like — like  this  due  to  me  because  of  my  interest  in  all 
that  has  taken  place  this  summer.  We  all  thought — 
Mrs.  Stannard  and  Grace  and  I — that  you  had  been 
most  outrageously  wronged,  and  it  did  seem  as  though 
everything  had  turned  against  you,  and  I  made  Mr. 
Blake  buy  Dandy  because  that  seemed  the  only  way  to 
save  him,  too,  from  being  abused.  I  couldn't  bear  it. 


TEE   COLORS  ENTWINE,  401 

Oh7  Mr.  Ray,  the  letter  did  not  half  prepare  me  for  all 
this  !  I  have  liked  you.  I  do  like  you  better  than  any 
man  I  know,"  she  said  ;  and  now  her  swimming  eyes 
were  fixed  full  on  his,  and  his  lips  were  quivering  in 
their  eagerness  to  kiss  away  the  tears,  but  he  drew  her 
no  closer. 

"  That  in  itself  is  more  than  I  had  a  right  to  hope, 
that  in  itself  nerves  me  to  tell  you  this.  I  go  back  to  my 
duty  with  a  stimulus  and  to  my  temptations  with  a 
safeguard  I  never  knew  before.  I  never  have  been 
worthy  your  faintest  thought,  much  less  your  love." 

"  Mr.  Ray,  don't  say  that !  I  know  well  that  no 
man  who  has  been  such  a  friend  of  Mrs.  Stannard's, 
such  a  friend  to  Captain  Truscott  and  Grace,  could  be 
what  you  paint  yourself.  Oh,  don't  think — don't  think 
for  an  instant  I  undervalue  the  gift ;  you — you  shall 
not  speak  of  yourself  that  way  !  Do  you  think  any 
woman  who  deserves  a  thought  could  fail  to  gh  ry  in 
such  a  name  as  you  have  won  ?  Oh,  Mr.  Ray,  Mr. 
Ray,  I  hardly  realize  that  it  is  possible  that  you  care 
for  me  !  You,  so  brave  and  loyal  and  daring." 

His  eyes  were  blazing  with  a  rapture  he  could  not 
control.  It  was  so  infinitely  sweet  to  hear  her  praise. 

"  You  make  me  hope  in  spite  of  yourself,  Marion," 
he  murmured,  with  trembling  eagerness.  "  Oh,  think  ; 
look  way  down  into  your  heart,  and  see  if  you  cannot 
find  one  little  germ  of  love  for  me, — one  that  I  may 
teach  to  grow.  Try,  my  darling,  try.  Ah,  heaven  ! 
am  I  mad  to-night?" 

And  now  her  head  was  drooping  again  and  her  heart 
beating.  She  felt  that  since  it  had  come  she  could  not 
bid  him  go  comfortless. 

aa  34* 


402  MARION'S  FAITH. 

"  Only  within  the  last  clay  or  two,"  she  whispered, 
"  have  I  been  thinking  that — that — I've  been  wonder 
ing  how  I  dared  write  to  you  as  I  did  when  you  were 
— in  Cheyenne,  wondering  whether — if  Dandy  were 
not  yours  to-day — I  could  find  courage  to  say  what  I 
did  to  Mr.  Blake.  Does — that — tell  you  anything, 
Mr.  Kay?" 

"  Marion !  Marion  !  Oh,  my  darling !  let  me  see 
your  face." 

She  struggled  one  instant.  She  even  hid  it  upon  his 
breast,  and  the  helmet  cords  made  their  mark  upon  her 
blushing  forehead;  but  quickly  he  took  her  face  be 
tween  his  strong,  trembling  hands,  gently  but  firmly 
raised  it  until  his  eyes  could  drink  in  every  lovely  fea 
ture,  though  the  fringed  lids  still  hid  from  him  the 
eyes  he  longed  to  see. 

"  Marion,  sweet  one.  Maidie  !  with  all  my  life  and 
strength  I  love  you.  Have  you  not  one  little  word  for 
me?" 

"  What — must  I  say  ?"  she  murmured,  at  last,  still 
shrouding  her  eyes. 

"  Say,— <  Will,  I  think  I  love  you  just  a  little/  " 

No  answer.  Only  beating  hearts,  only  quick-drawn 
breath,  only  the  distant  call  of  the  sentry,  "  Half-past 
eleven  o'clock ;"  only  the  dying  strains  of  the  "  Immor- 
tellen"  wafting  out  through  the  open  casements. 

"Try,  Maidie,"  he  whispered,  eagerly.  "Try  be 
fore  the  call  comes  back  to  the  guard-house.  Try  be 
fore  the  last  notes  of  that  sweet  waltz  die  away  for  good 
and  all.  Try,  sweet  love,— <  Will,  I  think  I  do.' " 

A  moment's  pause,  then — then — 

"Will,  I— I  know  I  do." 


THE   COLORS  ENTWINE.  403 

And  the  strong,  straining  arms  clasped  about  her 
under  that  blessed  cavalry  cape,  and  the  bonny  face 
was  hidden  on  his  breast,  and  Kay's  trembling  lips 
were  raining  passionate  kisses  on  that  softly  rippling 
bang,  just  as  the  last  thrill  of  the  "  Irnrnortellen"  dreamed 
away,  and  the  rich,  ringing,  soldierly  voice  of  the  sen 
try  on  number  one  echoed  far  out  over  the  moonlit 
prairie  the  soldier  watch-cry,  "  All's  well." 

What  a  gem  of  a  morning  was  the  morrow  when 
they  rode  away  northward !  After  the  command  had 
filed  out  of  the  garrison,  led  by  the  band  on  their  placid 
grays,  and  the  ladies  all  along  the  row  had  waved  their 
good-byes  and  kissed  their  dainty  white  hands,  and  the 
children  had  hurrahed  and  shouted  and  rushed  out 
among  the  horses'  hoofs  in  their  eagerness  to  have  one 
more  farewell  shake  of  the  hand  from  some  favorite 
officer  or  man,  and  two  or  three  dames  and  damsels 
had  stolen  away  to  the  back  rooms  up-stairs,  Marion 
Sanford  stood  with  tear-dimmed  eyes  at  the  window, 
gazing  far  out  over  the  prairie  at  the  long  blue  column 
disappearing  in  the  dust  over  the  "  divide."  By  her 
side  stood  Grace  Truscott,  twining  her  arms  around 
that  slender  waist  and  clinging  to  her  with  a  new  and 
sweeter  sympathy.  Who,  who  was  the  cynic  that 
wrote  that  even  as  she  stood  at  the  altar  plighting  her 
troth  to  the  husband  she  had  chosen,  no  woman  yet 
forgave  the  man  whom,  having  rejected,  she  knew  to 
have  consoled  himself  with  another?  Grace  never 
for  a  moment  admitted  that  Ray  had  been  her  lover 
in  Arizona ;  he  had  been  devoted  to  her — always — 
for  Jack's  sake;  but  there  were  those  who  thought 


404  MARION'S  FAITH. 

that  only  a  little  encouragement  would  have  tumbled 
Mr.  Ray  over  head  and  heels  in  love  with  her  in  those 
queer  old  days.  But  all  that  was  past.  There  was  no 
doubt  that  Mr.  Ray  was  desperately,  deeply  in  love 
now,  and  that  two  women  in  that  garrison — Mrs.  Stan- 
nard  and  Mrs.  Truscott — knew  it  well,  and  rejoiced 
that  his  love  was  requited.  But,  late  as  it  was,  Ray 
had  had  a  very  happy  yet  earnest  talk  with  Marion  on 
their  return  from  the  hop.  He  told  her  plainly  that 
he  had  a  term  of  probation  to  serve,  and  that  not  until 
he  had  freed  himself  from  his  burden  of  debt  and  fur 
nished  his  quarters,  so  that  he  might  not  be  utterly 
ashamed  to  welcome  her  to  such  a  roof  as  even  fron 
tier  cottages  afforded,  he  would  not  ask  her  to  be  his 
wife ;  he  would  not  ask  her  to  consider  herself  even 
engaged  to  him.  He  had  no  right,  he  said,  to  speak  to 
her  of  his  love,  much  less  to  plead  for  hers ;  but  that  was 
irresistible, — 'twas  done.  Long  engagements  are  fearful 
strains,  and  our  social  license  of  questionings  renders 
them  wellnigh  intolerable  to  men  and  women,  who  natu 
rally  shrink  from  speaking  of  matters  which  are  to  them 
so  sacred.  Ray  declared  that  she  should  not  be  harassed 
by  any  such  torturing  talk  and  prying  and  questioning 
as  that  which  has  to  be  undergone  by  almost  every  girl 
whom  civilized  society  fancies  to  be  engaged.  She 
could  never  doubt  him  for  an  instant,  he  felt  assured, 
and  he — well,  he  couldn't  begin  to  realize  his  blessed 
fortune  at  all,  so  she  must  excuse  his  incredulity ;  but 
he  declared  he  would  leave  her  utterly  untrammelled. 
There  should  not  even  be  an  "  understanding."  He 
would  not  ask  her  to  accept  his  class-ring,  all  he  had 
to  offer,  but  write  to  her  he  would.  Grace  and  Mrs. 


THE  COLORS  ENTWINE.  405 

Stannard  should  know  if  she  saw  fit,  and  Truscott,  but 
no  one  else  at  Russell.  Then,  if  she  came  to  her  senses 
when  she  went  back  to  New  York  and  her  friends  the 
Zabriskies  in  November,  and  met  some  fellow  worthy 
her  acceptance,  why — but  here  a  little  white  hand 
was  laid  firmly  upon  his  lips ;  he  said  no  more,  but 
compromised  by  kissing  it — rapturously. 

But  he,  and  Dandy,  too,  had  come  to  say  good-by 
before  marching,  and  Dandy's  coat  shone  like  silk,  and 
he  arched  his  pretty  neck  and  looked  at  her  with  his 
soft  brown  eyes  as  though  he  wanted  to  tell  her  lie 
knew  all  about  it,  as  indeed  he  did.  Had  not  Kay 
gone  into  the  stable  early  that  morning  while  he  was 
crunching  his  oats  and  whispered  it  all,  and  ever  so 
much  more,  into  that  sensitive  ear  ?  A  famous  confidant 
was  Dandy  on  the  long  march  that  followed,  for  Ray 
used  to  bend  down  on  his  neck  and  talk  about  her  to 
him  time  and  again,  to  the  wonderment  of  his  "  sub." 
Ray  breakfasted  at  Mrs.  Stannard's  the  morning  of  the 
start,  and  when  he  came  away  and  it  was  time  to  mount, 
he  wore  in  the  button-hole  of  his  scouting-shirt  a  single 
daisy — Marion's  own  flower — and  a  tiny  speck  of  dark- 
blue  ribbon.  The  yellow  facings  of  the  cavalry  were 
linked  with  the  Sanford  blue. 

And  wasn't  Blake  in  a  gale  that  morning  ?  Rat 
tling  with  nonsense  and  misquotation  and  eagerness  to 
be  off,  he  strode  from  gallery  to  gallery  with  his  Mex 
ican  spurs  clattering  at  his  heels.  He  had  bought  in 
town  a  little  china  match-safe,  which  he  gravely  pre 
sented  to  Mrs.  Whaling  as  a  slight  addition  to  the  col 
lection  of  what  she  termed  her  brick-a-braw.  He 
implored  Mrs.  Turner  to  sing  to  him  just  once,  for 


406  MARION'S  FAITH. 

singing  was  a  doubtful  accomplishment  of  hers,  and 
she  had  already  good  reason  to  know  that  he  had  para 
phrased  one  of  her  songs,  because  of  her  defective 
enunciation,  into — 

"  Some  day,  some  day,  some  day 
I  shall  meat  chew," 

and  she  never  forgave  ridicule.  He  declared  he  meant 
to  kiss  Mrs.  Wilkins  good-by,  and  dared  Mrs.  Stannard 
to  come  down  and  see  him  do  it ;  but  when  it  was 
really  time  to  ride  to  the  head  of  his  troop  of  recruits, 
he  bowed  to  Miss  Sanford  with  a  knowing  look  in  his 
eye,  and  bent  low  over  her  hand. 

"  '  Love  sought  is  good,  but  given  unsought  is  better;' 

and  yet,  fair  lady,  you  fail  to  see  the  overpowering 
advantages  of  accepting  mine.  In  the  language  of 
Schillerschoppenhausen,  Ich  habe  geliebt  und  gelebt, 
which  being  interpreted  means,  Fve  loved  and  got  left. 
Fare  ye  well."  And  away  he  rode,  bestriding  his  horse 
like  a  pair  of  bent  dividers  on  a  broad  grin. 

And  Ray, — though  pale  from  recent  illness  and  con 
finement  and  lack  of  the  old  open  air  life, — never  had  he 
looked  so  full  of  hope  and  buoyancy  and  life  as,  after 
one  thrilling  little  squeeze  of  her  hand,  he  swung  into 
saddle,  doffed  his  broad-brimmed  hat  to  all,  and  went 
bounding  away  to  take  his  place  in  front  of  the  long 
mounted  line  that  awaited  his  coming.  Then  his  voice 
rang  out  clear  and  firm  and  true,  and  with  the  daisy 
nestling  in  his  breast  he  galloped  to  the  head  of  cclumn. 
Duty,  Loyalty,  and  Hope  were  leading  on  before. 


THE  COLORS  ENTWINE  407 

Two  long  weeks  of  marching  it  took  to  carry  them 
to  the  romantic  valley  in  the  Black  Hills  where  the 
old  — th  so  eagerly  awaited  them,  and  meantime  letters 
were  flying  to  and  fro.  Ray  meant  to  bring  his  new 
riders  and  new  horses  in  perfect  trim  to  their  regiments, 
and  so  made  short  marches  and  constant  inspection  of 
his  stock.  Heavens !  what  a  gloom  had  settled  over 
the  regiment  that  miserable  day,  when  one  of  their 
number,  having  ridden  into  Deadwood,  came  back  with 
a  several  days'  old  Cheyenne  paper  giving  the  fearful 
details  of  Gleason's  death  and  Ray's  probable  guilt. 
It  was  three  days  more  before  they  met  the  mail-stage 
fairly  laden  down  with  bags  of  letters  for  them.  Stan- 
nard  had  been  almost  sick,  Truscott  sad,  silent,  but 
incredulous.  There  had  been  a  difference  between  him 
and  Billings,  for  the  latter  was  inclined  to  believe  the 
story  true,  and  Truscott  said  that  he  was  prepared  to 
hear  this  from  other  men  in  the  regiment  but  not  from 
him.  Eager  as  lovers  and  husbands  to  get  their  mail, 
every  man  had  dropped  the  letter  he  happened  to  be 
reading  when  young  Hunter,  searching  a  later  Chey 
enne  paper,  set  up  a  whoop  that  made  the  pine-crested 
heights  echo  again  and  again.  Then  waving  his  paper 
and  dancing  like  a  madman,  the  youngster  yelled  at  the 
top  of  his  voice, — 

"  Ray's  innocent !  Ray's  acquitted  !  'Twas  a  de 
serter,  Wolf,  who  did  it !  He's  confessed.  Now,  Crane. 
By  heaven,  swallow  your  words  !  Wh-o-o-o-p  !" 

Officers  and  men,  the  whole  regiment  sprang  to  their 
feet  and  came  tearing  to  the  spot,  and  such  a  scene  of 
hand-shaking  and  shouting  and  jubilee  the  Black  Hills 
never  knew  before  or  since.  It  was  easy  enough  for  the 


408  MARION'S  FAIllf. 

officers  to  hurry  back  to  their  letters  from  wives  and 
children  or  sweethearts,  but  for  hours  the  men  kept  up 
their  hurrah ;  Ray  had  been  their  hero  for  years,  and 
the  affair  of  the  July  fight  of  Wayne's  command  had 
simply  intensified  the  feeling. 

Naturally,  the  letters  bearing  the  postmarks  of  latest 
dates  were  those  first  opened.  Fancy  the  faces  of  Stan- 
nard  and  Truscott  as  they  read,  letter  by  letter,  back 
ward  through  that  summer's  record.  Turner  looked 
as  sad  and  anxious  as  ever;  almost  the  first  one  he 
opened  said,  "  If  you  have  not  already  seen  and  read 
those  that  precede  this,  please  burn  them  without  read 
ing.  I  was  mistaken ;"  and  Turner  well  knew  that 
when  his  wife  got  so  far  as  to  admit  that  she  had  been 
mistaken,  it  meant  that  in  some  way  she  had  been  play 
ing  the  mischief.  He  never  read,  therefore,  all  her 
graphic  details  of  Ray's  mysterious  flirtation  with  Mrs. 
Truscott,  or  of  the  thrilling  evidence  in  Mrs.  Turner's 
possession  of  his  guilt.  A  good  fellow  was  Turner, 
a  loyal  soldier  and  husband,  who  loved  his  pretty  and 
capricious  better  half,  and  deserved  a  still  better  one. 

That  night  when  the  first  keen  frosts  of  October 
made  the  camp-fires  doubly  welcome,  old  Stannard  and 
Jack  went  off  among  the  pines  and  built  a  little  blaze 
all  by  themselves,  and  there  talked  gravely  over  the 
strange  events  of  the  summer  now  so  fully  set  before 
them  in  those  volumes  from  Russell.  All  Wolf's  wild 
infatuation.  All  Gleason's  cunning  malice,  and — ah  ! 
De  mortuis  nil  nisi  bonum.  May  God  forgive  him ! 
All  Ray's  loyal  and  devoted  services,  and  his  cruel  suf 
fering  and  wrongs.  What  wonder  was  it  that  for  days 
the  regiment  could  talk  of  nothing  but  Ray  ?  What 


THE   COLORS  ENTWINE,  409 

wonder  that  they  could  not  fathom  the  secret  of  the  tie 
that  made  Stannard  and  Truscott  inseparable  now? 
What  wonder  that  those  two  officers  obtained  permis 
sion  to  ride  forward  a  day's  march  and  meet  Ray  and 
his  command,  and  that  when  they  came  upon  him  can 
tering  gayly  up  through  Buffalo  Gap,  he  hardly  knew 
them,  so  gaunt,  worn,  and  ragged  were  they ;  they 
hardly  knew  him,  so  radiant  was  the  halo  of  hope  and 
love  around  his  once  devil-may-care  face ;  so  earnest, 
so  grave,  yet  so  joyous  had  become  his  once  flippant, 
reckless  mien.  Yet,  in  their  very  greeting,  Ray  well 
knew  that  deep  and  faithful  as  had  been  the  old  trust, 
there  was  new  born  from  the  harsh  ordeal  of  this  strange, 
sad  summer  a  friendship  firmer,  deeper,  than  ever  earthly 
menace  could  shake — a  trust  and  loyalty  that  was  reg 
istered  in  heaven.  Not  one  word  for  hours  was  inter 
changed  between  Jack  and  Ray  as  to  that  scene  in 
which  he  carried  to  Grace  the  letter  Gleason  had  stolen, 
or  found.  Together,  with  Blake  occasionally  injecting 
his  rattling  comments,  they  talked  over  all  the  sea  of 
troubles  through  which  he  had  passed,  and  together 
they  would  have  mourned  it  all  anew  but  for  Ray. 

"  No,  major.  No,  Jack.  I  see  well  that  it  was  all 
for  the  best.  God  knows  I  have  been  ten  times  re 
warded  for  anything  I  may  have  suffered  then.  There 
was  a  lesson  I  had  to  learn,  and  did  learn  :  that  there 
are  hundreds  of  people  who  think  that  when  a  man 
drinks  at  all  there  is  no  crime  that  may  not  properly 
bo  lodged  at  his  door.  It  has  been  a  hard  siege,  but 
eveiy  hour  has  been  inestimable  in  result  and  in  re 
ward." 

But  before  they  rolled  in  their  blankets  that  night 
B  35 


410  MARIONS  FAITH. 

Truscott  looked  him  in  the  eyes  one  moment,  then  held 
out  his  hand. 

"  Is  it  necessary  for  me  to  say  how  I  value  what  you 
did  and  bore  for  Grace  and  me,  Billy  ?" 

"  Not  a  word,  Jack." 

Then  came  the  march  to  meet  the  regiment,  the  royal, 
ringing  welcome,  a  day  devoted  to  lionizing  Ray,  greet 
ing  the  new  officers,  choosing  horses,  assigning  recruits 
to  companies,  and  then  a  dash  down  the  Cheyenne,  a 
week's  ride  in  the  glad  October  sunshine,  and,  one  bril 
liant  evening  as  they  returned,  heading  in  toward  the 
agencies,  there  met  them  the  courier  with  despatches  and 
letters,  and  Ray's  heart  went  bounding  up  into  his 
throat  as  four  dainty  envelopes,  all  addressed  in  the 
same  hand,  were  lifted  up  to  him  as  he  sat  on  Dandy, 
and  then  Jack  Truscott  came  riding  quickly  to  his  side, 
his  eyes  glowing,  though  wet  with  emotion,  his  lips 
compressed,  yet  a  world  of  joy  and  gratitude  shining  in 
his  face.  Ray  looked  up  eagerly,  and  their  hands  clasped. 

"  I  have  a  son,  Billy,  and  all  is  well, — thank  God  !" 

And  then  came  the  day  when  with  the  long  skirmish 
lines  deployed,  far  a§  eye  could  see,  the  — th,  with  the 
comrade  battalions  of  the  other  regiments  that  had 
shared  the  rigors  of  the  Yellowstone  campaign  of  '76, 
came  sweeping  over  the  open  prairies  from  the  north, 
and  whirling  in  ahead  of  them  the  sullen,  scowling, 
blanketed  bands  of  old  Machpealota ;  "  herding"  them 
up  the  valley  of  the  White  River  towards  the  agency, 
and  penning  them  between  the  glistening  crags  of  Dan 
cer's  Butte  and  the  barrier  bluffs  on  the  other  side, 
while  MacKenzie's  troopers,  trim  and  fresh  in  their 


THE  COLORS  ENTWINE.  41 1 

natty  garrison  dress,  "rounded  them  up"  from  the 
south  and  west,  and  by  night  the  work  of  disarming 
and  dismounting  the  silent  Indians  was  begun.  New 
forces  were  all  there  ready  to  take  the  field  against  the 
hordes  of  Cheyennes  still  lurking  in  the  mountains  ;  but 
for  the  — th  the  campaign  of  the  centennial  year  was 
virtually  over.  A  few  days  of  rest  and  jubilee  and 
greeting  of  old  and  new  friends  among  the  regiments 
there  assembled,  and  then  they  turned  their  horses' 
heads  southward,  gave  one  backward  look  at  the  valley 
where  they  turned  the  tables  on  the  Cheyennes,  where 
Wayne  had  so  nearly  sacrificed  his  whole  command, 
where  Eay  had  run  the  gauntlet  of  death  by  torture  to 
save  them,  where  Truscott's  night  dash  to  the  rescue 
had  brought  him  charging  just  in  time,  and  over  the 
rolling  prairies  they  marched  to  seek  far  to  the  south 
their  winter  homes. 

Thither  had  Ray  and  Truscott  already  gone.  The 
summer's  work  was  done.  The  campaign  was  ended, 
and  there  came  by  telegraph  from  Cheyenne  a  notifica 
tion  that  Lieutenant  Ray  would  be  needed  as  a  witness 
on  the  trial  of  the  owners  of  that  gambling-den  in 
which  the  soldier  Wolf  had  been  done  to  death.  The 
"  Gray  Fox"  was  sending  in  his  ambulance  and  a  staff- 
officer  at  that  very  moment.  He  sent  for  Ray  to  bid 
him  good-by  and  offer  him  the  welcome  lift.  And  just 
as  Truscott  was  writing  some  hurried  lines  to  Grace, 
cheering  her  with  the  news  that  in  two  weeks  he  could 
reach  her,  the  colonel  laid  a  quiet  hand  upon  his  shoul 
der, — an  unusual  demonstration,  and  one  that  meant  a 
good  deal, — and  said,  "  It  has  occurred  to  the  general 
that  you  might  like  to  go  ahead  with  Ray,  captain ;  he 


412  MARION'S  FAITH. 

appreciates  the  circumstances  under  which  you  hurried 
to  join  us,  and  thinks  that  now  Mrs.  Truscott  is  en 
titled  to  claim  you,  so  Mr.  Billings  will  send  your 
orders  after  you  by  mail/'  He  did  not  say  that  he  had 
himself  gone  to  the  general  to  ask  this  indulgence  for 
Truscott,  but  so  it  happened  that  long  before  sundown 
the  three  old  comrades,  Truscott,  Ray,  and  Mr.  Bright, 
of  the  staff,  were  whirling  ahead  towards  Laramie,  and 
that  the  precious  inmates  of  number  eleven  at  Russell 
were  electrified  by  the  news  that  Jack  and  Will, — 
"  Jack  and  Will !"  would  be  there  ten  days  ahead  of 
the  anticipated  time. 

A  blessed  ten  days  they  were.  Grace  and  Baby 
Truscott  were  in  readiness  to  welcome  paterfamilias 
long  before  Mrs.  Stannard,  like  sister  Anne  on  the 
watch-tower,  reported  the  cloud  of  dust  that  told  of 
the  coming  of  the  Laramie  stage,  and  when  that  grimy 
vehicle  finally  drew  up  at  the  gate,  and  two  eager  war 
riors  sprang  out  (maybe  there  were  not  dozens  of  watch 
ing  eyes  along  the  row  !),  there  was  Maid  Marion  down 
the  walk  with  a  troop  of  the  garrison  children  flocking 
about  her,  and  Mrs.  Stannard  (by  special  arrangement 
and  request)  was  awaiting  them  on  the  piazza ;  and  when 
Jack,  after  very  brief  and  hearty  greeting,  was  passed 
on  into  the  house  and  up  the  stairs,  and  into  the  hands 
of  that  awesome  potentate  in  petticoats  before  whom 
from  the  moment  of  their  entry  into  this  world  of 
troubles  all  men  must  bow  in  helpless  submission — 
the  monthly  nurse,  and  the  bronzed  and  bearded  and 
somewhat  haggard  soldier  meekly  surrendered  himself 
into  her  custody,  and  was  ushered  by  her  into  a  little 
room,  where  he  was  bidden  to  make  himself  as  civil- 


THE   COLORS  ENTWINE. 

ized  as  possible  in  appearance,  lest  his  war-worn  guise 
should  shock  mamma  and  frighten  baby  into  convul 
sions,  he  obeyed  in  silence,  nay,  even  with  propitia 
tory  smiles  and  gestures.  Ay,  lay  down  your  arms 
and  bend  the  suppliant  knee,  sheathe  your  useless 
sword,  and  hush  to  soothing  whisper  the  voice  that 
thundered  in  command  a  week  agone ;  hide  away  with 
noiseless  hand  the  heavy  boot  and  clinking  spur ;  off 
with  belt  and  buckle  and  scratching  shoulder-strap,  and 
don  your  softest  dressing-gown  and  creakless  slipper ; 
submit  to  search  for  pins  and  needles  you  never  carried ; 
promise  you  will  only  talk  just  so  much,  and  stay  only 
just  so  long,  and  will  sit  only  just  in  such  a  place  and 
won't  attempt  to  agitate  her,  "  for  we  must  still  be  very, 
very  careful/7  and  at  last  you  are  admitted,  and  you 
kneel  by  the  white  bed  and  hear  the  rapturous  ecstasy 
of  welcome  in  her  faint  voice,  and  read  of  her  sacred 
martyrdom  in  the  white  cheek  and  fragile  hand,  and 
glory  in  the  pride  and  joy  of  that  wondering,  wonder 
ful  mother-look  in  the  great,  deep,  lustrous  eyes,  and 
kiss  again  the  warm,  sweet  lips  that  are  heaven's  nectar 
to  the  thirst  of  yours  ;  and  then — and  then  there  is  re 
vealed  to  you  that  little,  wrinkled,  ruddy  head,  all  folds 
and  puckers  and  creases,  all  the  redder  and  uglier  for 
contrast  with  the  snowy  bosom  in  which  it  twists  and 
burrows,  and  those  expressionless,  saucer-blue,  liquid, 
blinking  little  eyes,  and  tiny  upturned  nose,  and  puck 
ering,  gurgling,  querulous  mouth, — all  that  is  visible 
from  the  folds  of  the  white  blanket  worn  as  only  In 
dian  and  baby  can  wear  one ;  and  you  are  bidden  to 
declare  that  he  is  the  very,  very  image  of  you,  bless 
his  honeyed  lips  !  and  then  you  must  take  him  one 

35* 


414  MARION'S  FAITH. 

minute, — nurse  must  let  her  see  Jack  with  his  baby 
boy  in  his  arms  ! — and  though  fearful,  you  assent,  and 
with  reverent,  prayerful  gratitude,  you  receive  your 
first-born  to  your  heart,  and  thank  God  for  the  infinite 
mercy  that  has  brought  her,  the  sweet  young  wife  and 
mother,  through  her  deadly  peril,  and  then  you  would 
kiss  the  helpless,  staring,  blinking,  little  blanket-framed 
face ;  but  at  first  touch  of  those  bristling  moustaches  a 
powerful  spasm  has  convulsed  the  tiny  features,  and  a 
vehement,  plaintive,  wailing  protest  bursts  from  the  con 
torted  lips,  and  then  your  son  and  heir  is  snatched 
away,  and  you  stand  like  convicted  felon,  while  nursey 
dandles  and  tosses  and  condoles  and  condones  and  cud 
dles.  "  Well,  well,  well,  did  it  nearly  fighten  its  pes- 
sus,  pessus  life  out  with  its  horrid,  awful,  uggy  beard  ? 
Well,  it  never,  never  sail  aden,  never!  No,  nursey 
wouldn't  let  it."  That's  it,  Jack ;  sit  down  and  make 
the  best  of  it.  Your  reign  as  lord  and  master  is  over 
and  done  with.  Lo  !  Baby  is  king,  and  Mrs.  Muggins 
is  his  prime  minister  ! 

But,  down  in  the  pretty  parlor,  the  returning  soldier 
is  still  master  of  the  situation.  Thank  heaven  for  the 
beneficence  which  surrounds  the  birth  of  love  with  the 
supervisory  ministration  of  no  meddling  old  woman  ! 
Were  it  otherwise,  the  ancient  and  honorable  profession 
of  which  Mrs.  Sairy  Gamp  is  the  faithful  exponent 
would  never  have  been  called  into  being.  Ray  and 
Mrs.  Stannard  were  exchanging  rapturous  "  so  glad  to 
see  youV  and  shaking  hands,  and  giving  and  receiving 
news  about  all  manner  of  people,  while  Marion  San- 
ford  was  still  some  distance  "  down  the  row"  with  the 
romping  group  of  youngsters,  and  chatting  briskly 


THE   COLORS  ENTWINE.  415 

with  Mrs.  Wilkins  and  some  of  the  infantry  ladies  for 
all  the  world  as  though  Ray  were  nowhere  within  a 
thousand  miles.  She  wanted  to  keep  faith  with  the 
children,  she  said,  and  they  made  too  much  noise  for 
Baby's  slumbers  when  playing  about  the  house.  Of 
course  she  looked,  as  did  the  other  ladies,  all  eagerness 
to  see  the  returning  officers,  and  was  quite  prepared  to 
parry  all  thrusts  which  were  certain  to  come, — all  the 
deft  insinuations  which  people  are  so  practised  in  giv 
ing  under  certain  suspected  circumstances.  Of  course 
that  moonlit  interview  the  night  of  the  hop  had  been 
seen  by  more  than  one,  and  told  to  more  than  a  dozen, 
though  Ray  had  kept  between  her  and  the  couples  that 
happened  to  be  on  the  gallery,  and  so  concealed  the 
sweet  denouement,  and  his  subsequent  devotions  that 
night  to  Mrs.  Turner  and  to  Miss  Whaling  had  com 
pletely  bewildered  them.  For  her  sake,  he  had  writ 
ten,  the  matter  should  be  so  managed  as  to  subject  her 
to  as  little  questioning  as  possible.  It  was  already  ar 
ranged  that  she  would  be  returning  Eastward  about  the 
time  the  regiment  got  fairly  settled  in  winter  quarters. 
Already  the  infantry  were  packing  up  and  shipping 
their  goods  and  chattels  to  their  new  posts,  and  it  was 
just  barely  possible  that,  with  a  little  dissembling  and 
apparent  indifference,  the  train  of  talk  might  be  thrown 
from  the  track.  Mrs.  Stannard's  blue  eyes  danced 
merrily  as  she  welcomed  Ray,  and  they  gave  one  quick 
glance  towards  her  that  he  might  know  where  "  she" 
was,  and  it  wras  then  arranged  that  he  was  to  return  to 
the  house  with  certain  letters  as  soon  as  he  could  un 
pack  his  valise  and  change  his  dress.  By  that  time, 
too,  Miss  Sanford  was  recalled  by  a  message  from 


416  MARION'S  FAITH. 

Grace,  and  so  when  Ray  reappeared  and  the  servant 
ushered  him  into  the  cool,  darkened  little  parlor,  and 
scurried  away  to  the  kitchen  to  exchange  confidences 
with  cook,  he  had  seen  and  spoken  to  all  the  ladies  of 
the  regiment,  and  given  them  news  of  their  lords,  and 
had  not  yet  exchanged  one  word  with  the  lady  of  his 
love.  For  a  moment  he  stood  there,  looking  around  at 
the  familiar  and  dainty  objects  in  the  room  which  he 
had  pictured  in  his  mind's  eye  a  million  times  in  that 
brief  month  ;  at  the  piano, — closed  and  unused  of  late ; 
at  the  pictures  and  statuettes,  and  the  quaint  little  odds 
and  ends  in  the  way  of  "what-nots,"  book-stands, 
tables,  and  chairs;  at  the  broad  and  inviting  lounge 
with  its  beautiful  covering  and  soft  pillows,  and  the 
bear-skin  rugs  at  the  foot ;  at  the  rich  silk  and  bamboo 
screen  of  Japanese  handiwork  that  kept  the  chilling 
draught  from  the  piano  or  work-table  when  the  ladies 
were  there,  and  was  big  enough  to  form  a  complete  en 
closure  about  them, — their  "  corral"  he  had  termed  it, 
— and,  was  that  her  footstep  on  the  floor  above  ?  Xo  ! 
Too  heavy  and  slow.  The  maid  had  just  gone  up 
with  the  mail ;  besides,  her  room — Her  room  was  now 
on  the  ground-floor,  off  the  dining-room.  Why  didn't 
she  come  ?  She  must  know  how  hard  all  this  assumed 
indifference  was  to  bear.  She  must  know  how  eager 
he  was  to  look  once  more  into  her  sweet  blue  eyes  and 
read  their  shy  welcome ;  she  must  know  how  his  arms 
longed  to  enfold  her.  His  eyes  were  growing  more  ac 
customed  to  the  curtained  light,  and  he  could  see  his 
own  reflection  in  the  mirror  between  the  windows,  and 
noted  with  natural  satisfaction  how  bronzed  and  "  ser 
viceable"  he  was  looking  again,  and  then  he  thought  it 


THE   COLORS  ENTWINE.  417 

would  be  a  good  plan  to  draw  that  screen  across  the 
end  of  the  piano  and  hide  behind  it,  and  watch  her  as 
she  came  in,  before  rushing  forth  to — well,  wait  a  mo 
ment  !  Would  she  be  quite  prepared  for  so  rapturous 
a  greeting  as  he  longed  to  give  her  ?  Eyes  and  lips 
and  arms  and  breast  were  yearning  for  her,  but,  would 
she  not  be  abashed  at  such  a  demonstration  ?  It  would 
serve  her  right  for  keeping  him  waiting,  and  he  took 
hold  of  the  screen  to  draw  it  towards  him,  and  the 
screen  unaccountably  resisted.  He  dropped  on  his 
knee  to  loosen  the  foot  from  a  supposed  catch  in  the 
heavy  rug,  and  gave  a  stronger  pull  and  away  it  came, 
— and  there  like  Lady  Teazle,  .only  all  sweet  smiles 
and  welcome  and  blushes  and  shy  delight,  a  lovely, 
winsome  picture  of  loving  womanhood,  crouched  bonny 
Maid  Marion. 

"  Maidie  !  Oh,  you  darling  !  you  delight !"  And 
his  arms  were  about  her  in  an  instant.  He  sprang  to 
his  feet,  and,  despite  attempted  resistance  and  retreat, 
she  was  clasped  to  his  heart,  and  held  there, — held  there 
close  and  strong :  held  there  so  firmly  that  she  could 
not  get  away,  and  so,  in  default  of  other  hiding-place, 
her  face  was  buried  on  his  breast,  and — well,  she  had 
to  put  her  arms  somewhere.  When  does  a  woman  look 
so  like  a  stick  as  when  her  own  arms  hang  straight 
down  by  her  side  while  a  lover's  are  twining  about 
her?  If  you  need  confirmation  of  this  startling 
theory,  mademoiselle,  simply  take  one  look  at  that 
otherwise  delightful  picture  "  At  last — Alone."  Ob 
serve  the  ardor  of  the  lover-husband  ;  note  the  unre 
sponsive  droopiness  of  the  charmingly  attired  bride, 
and  defend  the  straight-up-and-down  hang  of  that  use- 
bb 


418  MARION'S  FAITH. 

less  arm  if  you  can.  She  might,  at  least,  take  the  stiff 
ness  or  limpness  out  of  it  by  simply  placing  the  little 
hand  on  his  shoulder,  and  that  is  just  what  Marion 
did,  until — until  he  himself  seized  and  drew  it  around 
his  neck.  The  question  as  to  how  he  should  greet  her 
had,  somehow,  solved  itself. 

At  last  he  raised  her  head.  She  was  indistinctly 
murmuring  something. 

"Pardon  me,  Miss  Blue-Eyes;  but — to  whom  did 
you  speak  ?" 

"  To  you  ;  I  said  that,  if  all  the  same  to  you,  I  would 
like  to  look  at  you." 

"  And  what  did  I  hear  you  call  me?" 

"  I  said— Mr.  Ray." 

"  Mr.  Ray !  Are  you  aware  of  the  fact  that  Mr. 
Ray  is  quite  a  thing  of  the  past  ?  very,  very  far  in  the 
past,"  he  added,  with  deep  and  earnest  feeling  in  place 
of  the  playful  tone  of  the  previous  words.  "  I  have 
been  Ray  or  Mr.  Ray,  or  Billy  Ray  and  '  that  scamp 
Ray/  many  a  long  year.  Only  one  woman  on  earth 
called  me  always  by  the  one  name  I  strove  to  teach 
you,  Maidie,  and  that  was — mother.  Am  I  not  yet 
'Will' to  you?" 

A  moment's  silence,  a  moment's  hesitation,  and  then, 
with  blushing  cheeks  and  beaming  eyes,  bravely,  loy 
ally,  comes  the  answer  :  "  Yes  !  In  every  thought,  in 
every  moment,  only — it  was  not  quite  so  easy  to  say." 

"  And  now,  if  I  forgive  you,  will  you  tell  me,  since 
you  have  had  the  look  you  demanded,  just  what  it  was 
you  wanted  to  see  in  such  a  sun-tanned  specimen? 
What  is  there  to  warrant  such  flattering  notice,  Maidie 
mine?" 


A    CAVALRY    WEDDING.  419 

She  was  looking  up  at  him  with  such  a  halo  of  hope 
and  love  and  pride  and  trust  shining  about  her  ex 
quisite  face ;  she  stood  there  with  one  soft  little  hand 
resting  on  his  shoulder,  while  the  other  shyly  plucked 
at  the  tiny  knot  of  dark-blue  ribbon  on  his  breast, — 
the  ribbon  that  had  fastened  her  daisy  to  his  scouting- 
shirt.  He  had  relaxed  the  pressure  of  his  arms,  but 
they  still  enfolded  her,  and  he  looked  the  picture  of 
brave  young  manhood  blessed  with  the  sweetest  knowl 
edge  earth  can  give.  Two  big  tears  seemed  starting 
from  the  blue  depths  of  those  shining  eyes.  He  bent 
fondly  towards  her. 

"  What  is  it,  sweet  one  ?  tell  me." 

"  I  had  been  thinking  of  all  you  had  written  me  of 
your  past,  and  of  all  your  troubles  and  wrongs  this 
summer,  and  wondering — wondering  how  any  one 
could  think  of  the  loyalty  you  had  always  shown  to 
those  you  loved, — how  any  one  could  look  into  your 
eyes  and  say  you  would  ever  disappoint — my  faith." 


CHAPTEK    XXIX. 

A   CAVALRY   WEDDING. 


AND  now  the  — th  were  all  in  from  the  field,  and  the 
wives  and  families  of  those  officers  who  were  there  to 
be  stationed  were  arriving  by  every  train,  and  the  post 
was  all  bustle  and  confusion  and  rejoicing.  Some 
changes  had  occurred,  as  had  been  predicted  by  the  colo* 


420  MARION'S  FAITH. 

nel,  but  many  of  our  old  friends  and  several  of  later 
date  were  ensconced  within  the  homely  walls,  and  pre 
paring  for  the  combined  rigors  and  comforts  of  a  Wy 
oming  winter  in  garrison.  Here  again  were  old  Stan- 
nard  and  his  loyal,  radiant  wife :  here  were  the  Tur 
ners  and  Raymonds  and  Webbs  and  Waynes  and 
Truscotts  and  Heaths  and  Freemans,  and  others  of 
whom  we  have  not  heard,  and  stanch  old  Bucketts, 
the  sorely  badgered  but  imperturbable  quartermaster, 
and  Billings,  the  peppery  adjutant,  and  Mrs.  Billings 
(whom  their  next-door  neighbor  Mr.  Blake  epitomized 
forthwith,  to  the  lady's  vehement  indignation,  as  Billings 
and  Cooings),  and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Wilkins  and  the  little 
Wilkinses,  and  a  "  raft  of  youngsters,"  as  the  junior 
bachelor  officers  were  termed,  and  with  Blake  was  his 
sworn  friend  and  ally  Billy  Ray,  now  the  senior  lieuten 
ant  of  the  regiment.  Life  was  gayety  to  all  but  him,  for 
Marion — the  light  of  his  very  existence — had  returned  to 
the  East.  For  ten  days  before  the  arrival  of  the  regi 
ment  Russell  was  paradise.  There  were  long,  joyous, 
exquisite  interviews  in  the  dear  little  parlor  at  the 
Truscotts'.  There  were  rides  and  drives  over  the 
boundless  prairie ;  there  were  plannings  and  promises, 
and — I  fear  for  once  in  his  life  Ray  felt  no  great  joy 
in  the  arrival  of  the  old  regiment,  for  on  that  day 
Major  Taylor's  family  went  East  for  the  winter,  and 
under  their  escort  Miss  Sanford  departed.  Bright  and 
gay  as  was  the  winter  that  followed  to  all  the  ladies  and 
most  of  the  officers,  there  was  one  fellow  at  least  to 
whom  hops  and  dinners  and  germans  had  faint  attrac 
tion.  Routine  duty  at  a  cavalry  post  soon  palls  on  the 
most  enthusiastic.  The  endless  round  of  roll-calls, 


A    CAVALRY    WEDDING.  421 

etables  both  morning  and  evening,  of  drills  and  guard- 
mount,  boards  of  survey  and  garrison  courts,  recitations 
and  rifle-practice, — all  serve  to  keep  up  constant  de 
mands  on  time  and  attention.  There  is  just  one  thing 
that  will  throw  about  them  all  a  halo  of  romance  and 
interest, — the  presence  at  the  garrison  of  the  girl  you 
love ;  and  when  such  a  blessing  has  once  been  enjoyed 
and  then  is  suddenly  taken  away,  the  utter  blank  is 
beyond  description.  Only  to  a  few  has  it  happened 
that  the  love  of  their  lives  has  been  found  in  garrison, 
and  only  they  will  quite  realize  what  life  at  Russell 
became  to  Ray  after  Marion  Sanford  went  East.  He 
had  greatly  changed  as  every  one  saw.  Not  that  he 
was  less  buoyant  and  brave,  but  that  he  was  far  more 
thoughtful,  grave,  and  earnest.  He  was  exact  and 
punctilious  in  the  performance  of  every  military  duty, 
was  always  ready  to  "  bear  a  hand"  at  the  entertain 
ments  and  parties,  but  the  haunts  where  he  had  once 
reigned  supreme  knew  him  no  more.  The  post  trader 
was  heard  regretfully  to  remark  that  Ray  wasn't  half 
the  man  he  expected  to  find  him,  and  there  were  rattle- 
pates  among  the  youngsters  in  the  regiment  to  whom 
"  Ray's  reformation"  was  a  source  of  outspoken  regret. 
"  If  that's  the  effect  of  getting  all  over  in  love,"  said 
Mr.  Hunter,  "  I  don't  want  any  of  it  in  mine." 

Poker,  too,  languished  as  a  popular  pastime  ;  the  de 
mand  for  morning  cocktails  had  unaccountably  fallen 
off;  the  bar-keeper  would  fall  asleep  at  the  club-room 
from  sheer  lack  of  employment  during  the  afternoons 
and  early  evenings,  for  many  of  the  married  ladies  had 
brought  maiden  relatives  as  friends  to  spend  the  winter 
yith  them,  and  half  a  dozen  new  romances  were  start- 

35 


424  MARION'S  FAITH. 

Of  course  there  was  a  ripple  of  laughing  chaff  over 
the  unchristian  spirit  which  prompted  people  to  search 
the  Scriptures  in  such  weather  and  freeze  the  helpless 
victims  of  their  piety, — the  drivers.  All  this  Ray 
parried  in  his  old  jaunty  way,  his  white  teeth  gleam 
ing  and  his  eyes  twinkling  with  merriment  over  some 
unusually  good  hit ;  but  as  ill  luck  would  have  it  Mr. 
Crane  had  been  up  too  late  or  too  early— or  both — and 
had  managed  to  drink  more  than  was  prudent.  He 
had  always  smarted  under  the  scoring  Ray  had  given 
him  in  Arizona,  and  he  saw,  or  murkily  thought  he  saw, 
a  chance  to  say  a  stinging  thing.  The  bar-keeper  had 
just  wrapped  the  flask  in  paper  and  was  handing  it  to 
Ray,  when  Crane  thickly  began, — 

"  Makes  a  heap  of  difference  in  a  man  this  gettin' 
spooney,  don't  it  ?  Year  ago  Ray  would  have  sneered 
at  fellow's  going  to  church,  an7  now  he's  doin'  it — self. 
Next  thing,  by  George,  he'll  be  havin'  'ligious  scruples 
'bout  goin'  Indian-fighting." 

There  were  sharp,  sudden  growls  of  "  Shut  up,  yon 
idiot !"  "  Choke  him  off,  somebody  !"  but  all  too  late. 
Ray  heard  every  word  of  it,  and  his  eyes  blazed  in  an 
instant.  Every  man  saw  the  coming  storm,  and  there 
was  an  awkward  rising  from  chairs  and  gathering  about 
Crane  as  though  to  hustle  him  out  of  the  room.  For 
a  moment  Ray  stood  there  quivering  with  wrath,  seem 
ingly  making  strong  effort  at  self-control,  then,  with 
the  old  ring  and  snap  to  every  word,  he  first  sent  the 
bar-keeper  out  of  the  room,  telling  him  to  take  the  flask 
at  once  to  his  quarters,  then  turned  quickly  on  Crane, 
who  was  stupidly  shuffling  at  a  pack  of  cards. 

"  This  is  the  third  time,  Mr.  Crane,  that  you  have 


A    CAVALRY    WEDDING.  425 

made  it  necessary  for  me  to  bring  you  up  with  a  round 
turn.  You  intimate  that  a  year  ago  I  would  have 
sneered  at  a  man's  going  to  church.  Never,  sir,  in  my 
whole  life  has  man  or  woman,  boy  or  girl,  heard  from 
my  lips  one  word  of  ridicule  or  disrespect  for  religious 
faith  or  religious  observances.  You  are  in  no  condition 
to-day  to  appreciate  what  I  say,  perhaps,  so  you  may 
have  until  to-morrow  for  complete  apology  and  retrac 
tion  ;  but  this  much  you  can  understand,  sir :  if  you 
fancy  for  one  instant  that  religious  scruples,  or  any 
other  kind,  will  interfere  with  my  fighting  now  or  at 
any  time,  you  are  most  damnably  mistaken,  sir,  as  you 
will  find  as  soon  as  you  are  sober  enough  to  receive  a 
message."  And  with  that  he  turned  and  left  the  room. 
The  next  morning  Blake  was  out  with  a  note,  as  every 
body  knew  would  be  the  result,  and  poor  Crane  tied  a 
wet  towel  around  his  head  and  sent  for  Wilkins  and 
Heath  and  others,  and  they  all  told  him  the  same  thing. 
He  had  made  an  outrageous  ass  of  himself,  and  had 
best  write  a  full  apology,— and  he  did.  It  was  "the 
church  militant,"  said  Blake,  "  that  Billy  joined,"  and 
it  was  evident  enough  that  the  chip  was  still  there  on 
Ray's  shoulder.  Even  Marion  Sanford's  sunny  head 
had  not  displaced  it. 

And  then  came  a  time  in  the  spring  when  Ray's  let 
ters  began  to  be  very  frequent,  and  R.allston's  big  fist 
sprawled  in  on  all  manner  of  envelopes  from  all  man 
ner  of  Iowa  and  Nebraska  hotels.  He  was  doing  a 
lively  business  in  the  horse  and  cattle  trade  again,  had 
quit  gambling,  said  rumor,  and  Mrs.  Rallston  was  with 
him  now  on  all  his  journeyings,  and  looking  marvel 
lously  well  and  happy ;  and  along  in  April  Blake  and 


426  MARIOWS  FAITH. 

Ray  were  doing  all  they  knew  how,  with  Mrs.  Stan- 
nard's  assistance,  to  make  their  quarters  habitable  for 
lady's  use,  and  Rallston  and  Nell  came  and  paid  them 
a  visit  of  an  entire  week,  and  went  away  enraptured 
with  the  regiment.  Rallston  was  ill  at  ease  at  first, 
but  his  wife's  grace  and  beauty,  the  fact  that  she  was 
Ray's  sister,  and  that  Mrs.  Stannard  and  Mrs.  Truscott 
became  devoted  to  her  from  the  start,  and  that  "  old 
Stannard"  and  Truscott  took  Rallston  under  their  pro 
tecting  wings,  and  showed  him  around  as  though  there 
had  never  been  a  flaw  in  his  record, — all  these  things 
and  his  natural  good  nature  combined  to  make  him 
popular  among  the  officers,  and  the  night  before  they 
left  he  had  the  whole  crowd  in  at  a  "  stag  party"  in 
town,  whereat  there  was  much  conviviality  and  good 
feeling ;  and  the  next  thing  whispered  about  the  gar 
rison  was  that  Ray  had  "  an  interest  in  the  business," 
for  when  Billings  wanted  a  new  horse,  and  could  find 
none  just  to  suit  him  in  the  stables,  he  sought  Ray's 
advice,  as  he  always  did  in  such  matters  (the  cloud  be 
tween  them  had  long  since  drifted  away,  but  not  until 
Billings  had  "  made  a  clean  breast  of  it"),  and  Ray 
told  him  to  wait  a  few  days  and  the  horse  to  suit  him 
would  be  there,  and  he  could  take  his  own  time  in  pay 
ing  for  him,  too.  (He  did,  by  the  way.)  And  when 
May  came,  and  with  it  orders  for  a  summer  camp, 
Ray's  old  troop  took  the  field  without  him.  Another 
vacancy  had  occurred,  and  Rallston  sent  three  baskets 
of  champagne  from  Omaha  that  all  might  drink  the 
health  of  the  new  captain,  whose  troop  was  down  the 
road  at  Sidney.  Verily,  Fortune  was  smiling  on  the 
gallant  fellow  on  whom  she  had  seemed  to  frown. 


A    CAVALRY   WEDDING.  427 

Even  the  course  of  true  love  was  defying  all  previous 
record,  and  had  run  with  exceptional  smoothness. 
Barring  the  one  fearful  task  of  having  to  write  to  her 
father,  his  courtship  had  been  sweet  and  unimpeded  as 
all  its  first  surroundings  had  been  bitter.  And  now, 
free,  hopeful,  redeemed,  what  was  there  to  wait  for? 
Why  not  claim  his  bride  and  a  long  leave  of  absence, 
and  take  her  with  him  to  see  the  dear  old  mother  in 
Kentucky  ?  "  The  engagement  is  at  last  announced," 
wrote  Grace  to  Truscott,  who  was  scouting  over  the 
Big  Horn,  "  and  the  wedding  will  be  some  time  this 
summer.  "Was  it  not  odd  that  you  and  he  should  each 
have  received  promotion  just  before  marrying?  Little 
did  dear  Maidie  and  I  ever  dream  in  the  old  days  at 
Madame  Reichard's  that  we  were  to  marry  captains  of 
cavalry  in  the  same  regiment.  Oh,  Jack  !  why  didn't 
I  have  a  military  wedding?  Marion  says  that  the 
entire  community  is  so  shocked  at  the  idea  of  her  ac 
cepting  an  unknown  army  officer  that  she  has  deter 
mined  to  have  a  brilliant  affair  of  it,  and  Mr.  Sanford 
says  that  she  shall  have  everything  she  wants  that 
money  can  buy,  and  they  say  he  is  '  rolling  in  wealth' 
now.  His  wife  has  been  behaving  like  an  angel  ever 
since  Marion's  return,  and,  much  to  the  Zabriskies' 
disappointment,  the  reception  will  be  at  the  Sanfords', 
and  she  will  be  married  from  there  and  the  whole  clan 
will  be  gathered  to  see  it,  and  there  will  be  eight  brides 
maids,  three  of  whom  were  our  classmates  at  school, 
and,  of  course,  the  wedding  itself  will  be  in  the  old 
cathidral  church,  and  all  the  officers  there  in  full  dress 
and  the  band  from  Governor's  Island.  Oh,  Jack ! 
can't  we  go  back  and  do  it  all  over  again  ?  Marion 


428  MARION'S  FAITH. 

says  there  is  only  one  thing  to  roar  her  happiness :  she 
cannot  have  cavalry  officers  for  groomsmen  because 
almost  all  Mr. — Captain  Ray's  (there  I  go  making 
the  same  blunder  that  used  to  exasperate  me  so  .in  Mrs. 
Turner  last  year :  she  would  speak  of  you  as  Mister 
long  after  you  were  captain,  only  I  knew  she  did  it  on 
purpose) — Captain  Ray's  friends  are  in  the  field  and 
cannot  be  spared,  but  Mr.  Blake  is  to  be  best  man,  and 
there  will  be  plenty  of  other  officers.  Marion  says  that 
at  first  her  father  looked  very,  very  solemn  at  the  idea 
of  her  falling  in  love  with  a  cavalry  officer,  and  could 
not  be  reconciled  to  it,  but  one  evening  he  came  home 
late  from  New  York, — he  had  been  at  a  dinner  at  the 
Union  Club,  and  there  was  introduced  to  General 

S ,  who  sat  next  him,  and  in  some  way  he  asked 

about  Mr.  Ray,  and  the  general  said  there  wasn't  a 
braver  man  or  finer  officer  in  the  cavalry,  and  spoke  of 
him  in  such  a  glowing  way  that  Mr.  Sanford  came 
home  radiant.  Well,  excepting  my  Jack,  the  general 
was  right."  And  Jack's  answer  was  that  he  thought 
it  would  be  an  excellent  plan  for  Mrs.  Grace  to  take 
Baby  Jack  and  a  "  two  months'  leave,"  and  go  East 
and  exhibit  her  glory  and  delight  to  grandpapa  and 
grandmamma,  and  see  Marion  married.  Mrs.  Stan- 
nard  was  to  start  by  June  30, — why  not  go  with  her  ? 
The  California  mining  venture — his  old  Arizona  in 
vestment —  would  fully  warrant  the  extravagance. 
Many  a  woman  will  refrain  from  attending  the  gayest 
of  balls  because  her  Strephon  cannot  be  there,  but 
where  is  the  woman  who  can  resist  a  wedding  ?  Grace 
went,  as  a  matter  of  course. 

What  pen  can  describe  the  sensation  that  had  shaken 


A    CAVALRY   WEDDING.  429 

society  to  its  foundation  when  it  began  to  leak  out  that 
the  lovely  Miss  Sanford,  eldest  daughter  of  the  Honor 
able  Blank  Sanford, — plutocrat, — was  going  to  marry 
an  army  officer  ?  This,  then,  was  the  reason  why  swains 
from  Philadelphia  and  New  York  had  sighed  in  vain 
all  that  winter.  Ever  since  November  she  had  been 
the  acknowledged  belle,  frank,  joyous,  radiant,  gracious, 
winning,  a  woman  all  men  worshipped  and  all  women 
envied.  "  I  wish  I  could  find  something  in  her  to 
criticise,"  was  the  despairing  summary  of  a  would-be 
rival.  "  She  is  so  courteous,  so  considerate,  so  gener 
ous,  so  hopelessly  regardful  of  everybody  else's  rights 
and  feelings.  I  don't  think  she's  a  radiant  beauty. 
You  cannot  but  see  defects  in  her  features,  but  who 
ever  saw  a  more  winning  face  ?  I  don't  wonder  every 
body,  old  and  young,  is  simply  fascinated  by  her.  I 
watched  her  there  all  last  evening  when  they  had  that 
little  party.  She  was  surrounded  every  moment.  She 
was  having  the  best  kind  of  time,  but  her  eyes  were 
everywhere  watching  to  see  that  everybody  was  enter 
tained,  and  no  sooner  was  a  woman  left  alone  for  an 
instant  than  she  was  by  her  side  with  a  gracious  word — 
or  a  man.  It  is  so  everywhere  she  goes.  Now,  who 
on  earth  can  this  officer  be  ?  What's  an  officer  like,  any 
how?'7 

It  was  no  isolated  opinion.  Marion  Sanford  was  a 
marked  woman  in  general  society,  a  woman  who  reigned, 
queenlike,  over  every  heart ;  but,  among  the  circle  of 
her  relatives,  the  uncles  and  aunts  and  cousins  who 
lived  within  the  sphere  of  her  attractions,  she  was  held 
to  be  little  less  than  the  angels.  It  made  it  all  the 
harder  for  Ray,  since  everybody  was  eager  to  see  what 


430  MARION'S  FAITH. 

manner  of  man  it  was  that  had  won  so  peerless  a  pearl 
from  their  midst.  It  was  loyalty  to  him,  pride  in  him, 
love  for  him  more  than  anything  else,  that  made  her 
choose  a  military  wedding,  that  all  at  home  might  see 
something  of  the  brighter  side  of  army  life  and  the  so 
cial  attractions  of  the  men  who  were  his  chosen  com 
rades. 

And  at  last  it  comes  :  a  day  of  cloudless  sunshine, 
of  soft  and  balmy  air,  heralding  a  moonlit  evening  that 
could  have  served  for  the  Midsummer  Night's  Dream, 
and  inspired  the  melodies  of  Mendelssohn ;  and  the 
massive  walls  of  a  great  cathedral  church  are  silvered 
by  the  rays  without,  and  pierced  by  the  brilliant  flood 
of  colored  light  shining  from  within.  Carriage  after 
carriage  rolls  up  through  the  dense  throng  of  curious 
but  silent  spectators  and  discharges  its  load  of  richly- 
dressed  occupants  through  the  carpeted,  canvas-roofed 
lane  of  belted  police,  through  the  massive  portals  of 
the  church,  past  the  welcoming  "  masters  of  ceremo 
nies," — two  society  swells,  who  know  everybody  and 
where  everybody  is  to  be  seated, — and  by  them  are 
presented  to  one  of  half  a  dozen  stalwart  young  officers 
in  all  the  glitter  of  shoulder-knots,  helmet-cords,  aiguil- 
lettes,  sabres,  and  belts,  and  these  martial  ushers  re 
ceive  the  wondering  ladies  on  their  arms  and  escort 
them  with  much  ceremony  to  the  designated  pews, 
wherein  they  are  deposited  with  the  precision  of  mili 
tary  bows,  and  the  escort  returns  forthwith,  clanking 
down  the  aisle  followed  by  curious  eyes.  Carriage  after 
carriage  arrives,  party  after  party  is  ushered  in  with 
the  same  unerring  ease,  just  as  the  staff-officers  conduct 
detachments  to  their  assigned  positions :  no  break,  no 


A   CAVALRY   WEDDING.  431 

confusion ;  and  the  good  people  of  the  peace-loving 
metropolis,  to  whom  army  matters  have  long  been  a 
dark  and  uninviting  mystery,  begin  to  admit  that  there 
are  some  points  worth  noting  in  a  military  wedding. 
And  then  "  society"  begins  to  recognize  each  other  with 
nods  and  smiles  and  fluttering  fans,  and  to  look  about 
and  take  mental  inventory  of  the  marvellous  changes 
in  the  vast  interior.  Verily,  Marion  Sanford's  circle 
of  friends  and  relatives  has  effected  transformation  here  I 
Back  of  the  congregation  the  organ-loft  is  concealed 
from  view  by  ornamental  screen-work  and  an  arbor- 
like  arrangement  of  vines  and  leaves,  from  which  the 
gilded  pipes  and  gothic  spires  shoot  up  into  the  vaulted 
ceiling ;  but  no  one  knows  who  or  what  may  be  there 
concealed.  Towards  the  altar  the  church  is  a  bower 
of  beauty.  Immediately  in  front  of  the  chancel  rail 
and  facing  inward  towards  the  centre  aisle  are  the  ele 
vated  seats  of  the  choristers,  with  the  pulpit  and  lec 
tern  on  opposite  sides  and  at  the  outer  edge  of  the 
choir-stalls.  The  pulpit  and  lectern  themselves  are  a 
creamy  mass  of  daisies, — Marion's  own  flower, — while 
between  them  stretches  a  light  trellis-work,  half  con 
cealing,  half  disclosing,  the  choir-stalls  beyond,  twined 
with  smilax,  and  thickly  studded  with  white  roses  and 
carnations.  Over  the  centre  aisle  this  trellis  takes  the 
form  of  an  exquisite  floral  arch,  spanning  the  steps  to 
the  choir-level  and  the  broad  aisle  beyond.  All  the 
pillars  are  twined  with  smilax ;  all  the  chancel  rail  is 
similarly  decked,  while  roses,  carnations,  and  "  snow 
balls"  are  everywhere.  Each  side  of  the  altar  is  orna 
mented  by  tall  pyramidal  groups  of  palms  and  tropical 
plants,  while  the  upper  portion  of  the  church  is  filled 


432  MARION'S  FAITH. 

here  and  there  and  everywhere  with  foliage  and  blos 
soms.  A  great  marriage-bell  of  carnations  hangs  over 
the  altar  steps ;  the  altar  itself  is  one  mass  of  daisies  ; 
the  air  is  heavy  with  perfume  and  now,  as  eight  o'clock 
approaches,  rich  with  soft,  exquisite  melody  that  comes 
floating  from  an  unseen  orchestra  in  the  loft.  Every 
now  and  then  there  is  unusual  flutter  and  curiosity  as 
the  ushers  stride  up  the  aisle  with  comrades  in  full  uni 
form,  who,  with  their  wives,  are  "  army  guests,"  and 
they  are  escorted  to  the  seats  just  back  of  the  choristers, 
among  the  relatives  and  nearest  friends,  where  they  are 
placed  half  facing  the  crowded  assemblage,  and  are  at 
once  the  object  of  hundreds  of  curious  eyes.  There  are 
the  bald  head  and  red  face  of  old  Colonel  Pelham  and 
the  majestic  proportions  of  his  much-better-half,  who, 
as  scion  of  all  the  De  Euyters,  is  quite  at  home  con 
fronting  the  social  battery ;  and  Mrs.  Stannard  with  her 
happy  blue  eyes  and  noble  bearing,  and  Mrs.  Truscott, 
exquisitely  dressed  and  an  object  of  no  little  admiration 
among  observers  of  both  sexes.  "  Old  Stannard" 
fidgets  at  the  unaccustomed  harness  of  full  uniform, 
and  kicks  impatiently  at  his  sabre,  wishing  himself  out 
on  the  Arizona  deserts  again,  but  defiantly  determined 
to  hold  his  own  and  glare  the  people  down.  Men  of 
the  artillery  and  engineers,  too,  are  ushered  into  their 
seats,  and  then  everybody  seems  to  be  settled ;  it  lacks 
but  two  minutes  of  eight  by  the  watch,  and  a  military 
wedding  must  be  of  all  things  on  time.  Suppressed 
excitement  can  be  heard  without.  The  doors  leading 
into  the  vestibule  are  closed.  Everybody  is  staring 
back  at  the  church  entrance,  and  still  the  sacristy  door 
remains  firmly  shut.  Surely  'tis  time  for  the  groom 


A    CAVALRY   WEDDING.  433 

and  his  best  man  to  appear  there ;  one  minute  of  eight 
and  no  sign.  Who  in  all  that  crowd  could  dream  that 
Ray  and  Blake  have  vainly  stormed  the  vestry  door  and 
found  it  locked  ?  By  some  unaccountable  error  the 
sexton  has  barred  their  entrance  as  well  as  that  of  the 
intrusive  uninvited  whom  he  meant  to  exclude. 

"  What  on  earth  shall  we  do,  Billy  ?"  quoth  Blake. 
"  I  can  heave  a  brick  through  the  window  and  crawl  in 

O 

after  it.  It  will  ruin  our  uniforms,  but  we'll  get  there 
on  time." 

"  Back  to  the  front !"  says  Ray,  pardonably  white 
and  tremulous.  "We  can  scurry  up  the  side-aisle. 
It's  our  only  chance  now  !"  So  back  they  go,  and  the 
next  instant  the  vestibule  door  opens  just  a  few  inches, 
the  congregation  rises  to  a — woman,  and  two  slim-built 
fellows  in  full  cavalry  uniform,  the  long  yellow  plumes 
of  their  carried  helmets  floating  behind  them  and  their 
sabres  clattering,  hasten  up  to  the  head  of  the  church 
just  as  the  tower  clock  booms  the  first  stroke  of  eight. 
Organ,  orchestra,  and  ringing  voices  burst  into  trium 
phant  melody,  the  vestibule  doors  fly  open,  and,  headed 
by  the  crucifer  and  his  sacred  emblem,  the  white  sur- 
pliced  choristers  come  thronging  up  the  centre  aisle, 
while  the  whole  congregation  turns  and  faces  them, 
as  wedding  congregations  will,  and  the  lofty  rafters 
ring  with  the  exultant  strains, — 

"  Hark  !  hark,  my  soul !     Angelic  songs  are  swelling." 

Slowly,  reverently,  they  move  up  through  the  broad 
lane,  flanked  by  eager  faces  ;  the  choristers  are  followed 
by  the  brilliant  party  of  ushers, — soldier  and  civilian, — 


434  MARION'S  FAITH. 

the  gray-haired  father  and  his  handsome  wife;  then 
come  the  fair  bridesmaids,  two  and  two,  all  in  fleecy 
silk,  and  bearing  dainty  bouquets  of  daisies  tied  with 
the  cavalry  colors,  while  between  the  last  two,  sister 
and  cousin,  and  as  though  led  by  them,  veiled,  and  with 
downcast  eyes,  a  matchless  picture  of  sweet  womanly 
grace  and  beauty,  is  Marion. 

The  choristers  file  to  their  places,  the  father  with  the 
tady  olrhis  name  halts  at  the  archway,  stepping  to  one 
side  that  the  ushers  and  bridesmaids  may  move  on  to  the 
altar,  which  they  encircle  right  and  left ;  Ray,  pale  and 
white,  but  with  eager  light  in  his  handsome  dark  eyes, 
steps  quickly  down,  with  Blake  close  at  his  heels,  and 
bowing  low,  meets  his  fair  bride  at  the  arch,  then  turns 
and  faces  the  two  white-robed  clergymen  who  come 
forward  from  the  chancel,  leaving  the  venerable  bishop 
at  the  holy  altar.  The  swelling  hymn  has  ceased,  and 
in  its  place  low,  sweet,  witching  strains  of  music  float 
through  the  vaulted  sanctuary ;  a  hush  as  of  intense 
expectation  falls  upon  the  listening  throng,  and  the 
deep  voice  of  the  rector  is  heard  in  the  solemn  opening 
exhortation, — "  Reverently,  discreetly,  advisedly,  so 
berly,  and  in  the  fear  of  God.7'  In  it  fancy?  or,  as 
that  never-answered  challenge  comes :  "  If  any  man 
oan  show  just  cause  why  they  may  not  lawfully  be 
joined  together?"  docs  Ray  throw  back  his  head  with 
something  of  that  same  old  semi-defiant  gesture  that  as 
much  as  says  it  wouldn't  be  a  safe  thing  for  any  man 
to  try?  And  then  another  voice  is  heard,  feeble,  trem 
ulous  with  years,  ay,  with  deep  emotion  ;  it  is  that  of 
die  revered  old  soldier  of  the  Cross,  whose  lips  long 
years  tafore  propounded  the  same  solemn  query  to  her 


A    CAVALRY   WEDDING.  435 

sainted  mother;  who  under  that  same  roof  received 
this  child,  a  smiling  baby-girl,  into  the  congregation 
of  Christ's  flock,  and  signed  her  with  the  sign  of  the 
cross;  who  led  her,  a  sweet  maiden,  to  the  altar  there 
beyond  to  renew  the  solemn  promise  and  vow  that  was 
there  made  in  her  name ;  from  whose  hands  she  had  on 
bended  knee  so  often  received  the  consecrated  elements  ; 
whose  aging  accents  had  trembled  in  grief  and  sympa 
thy  even  as  they  uttered  the  words  of  solace,  "  Blessed 
are  the  dead  who  die  in  the  Lord,"  and  whose  consola 
tion  was  sweetest  to  her  in  the  bitter  days  when  that 
blessed  mother  died.  No  wonder  Ray  can  feel  that  she 
is  trembling  from  head  to  foot,  and  that  his  "  I  will" 
is  firm  and  strong  as  he  looks  squarely  into  the  eyes 
of  the  venerable  priest  and  honors  him  for  the  gather 
ing  tears  he  sees  there ;  no  wonder  his  own  turn 
proudly,  fondly,  down  on  her  as  her  soft  hand  is  placed 
in  his  nervous  palm,  and  Blake  sets  his  teeth  to  repel 
the  gasp  of  delight  with  which  he  hears  the  clear-cut 
enunciation  of  every  word  of  his  solemn  troth.  For 
the  life  of  him  he  cannot  help  thinking  how  many  a 
time  he  has  heard  that  voice  in  the  wild  days  on  the 
frontier,  in  Indian  battle  or  in  garrison  debate,  and 
marked  the  same  ring  of  determination  when  he  was 
deeply  moved.  "  By  gad,  but  he  means  it !  I  never 
knew  him  when  he  didn't  mean  every  word  he  said  !" 
he  gasps  to  himself.  And  then — 'tis  her  turn,  and 
clear,  bell-like,  yet  silvery  soft,  her  sweet  voice  repeat. f 
the  trembling  words  of  her  old  pastor ;  and  all  over 
the  great  church  men  and  women  hold  their  breath  and 
listen  with  eager  car;  and  eyes  grow  moist  and  throats 
grow  lumpy,  and  some  who  love  her  dearly  can  hardly 


436  MARION'S  FAITH. 

restrain  a  flood  of  tears,  for  never  for  an  instant,  from 
the  first  word  to  the  last,  do  her  eyes,  glorious  in  their 
trust  and  faith,  exquisite  in  hope  and  love  and  tender 
ness,  falter  from  their  fond,  loyal  gaze  up  into  his. 
There  is  uncontrollable  recourse  to  handkerchiefs,  a 
rustle,  and  sensation  throughout  the  crowded  ranks  of 
society  as  the  last  solemn  word  of  her  troth  is  spoken, 
and  Blake  thanks  heaven  that  the  organ  tones  grow  per 
ceptibly  louder  and  more  triumphant,  and  so  does  Kay, 
who  would  gladly  balk  that  awful  hurdle  on  which  so 
many  a  poor  fellow  has  floundered, — "  With  all  my 
worldly  goods  I  thee  endow  ;"  but  he  holds  gallantly 
to  the  ring.  He  hardly  knows  that  they  are  following 
the  white-robed  clergy  forward  to  the  altar  now,  and 
that  there  it  is  the  bishop's  voice  that  greets  them  ;  but 
despite  the  helmet  and  sabre  that  hang  twixt  him  and 
her  he  is  close  by  her  side,  and  ere  he  knows  it  is 
kneeling  there  at  the  chancel  rail  and  listening  to  the 
grandest,  sweetest  benediction  in  all  the  eloquent  ritual 
of  the  church,  and  then — and  then,  he  has  risen  and  is 
gazing  into  the  humid  eyes  of  his  wife. 

Oh,  with  what  triumph  and  joy  the  mingled  tones 
of  organ  and  orchestra  burst  into  the  exultant  music 
of  the  Wedding  March  !  How  the  lights  dance  and 
whirl  !  how  overpowering  is  the  perfume  of  rose,  hya 
cinth,  and  carnation  !  He  has  blindly  shaken  hands 
with  some  one,  but  Marion  takes  his  arm,  and  together 
they  meet  the  thronging  sea  of  faces  and  step  blithely 
down  the  surpliced  lane  of  choristers,  down  the  arch 
way  stairs,  down  the  broad  and  carpeted  aisle  between 
the  batteries  of  smiles  and  tears,  and  after  them  comes 
Blake  towering  beside  the  first  bridesmaid  ;  come  all 


A    CAVALRY   WEDDING,  437 

the  other  damsels  on  the  arms  of  their  attendant  cava 
liers  ;  and  carriage  doors  are  banging,  and  there  is  a 
merry  chime  resounding  through  the  moonlit  street, 
and  away  they  drive  to  the  handsome  old  home,  with 
all  its  windows  ablaze  with  light,  and  grounds  with  col 
ored  lanterns ;  and  there  in  the  great  bay-window  they 
take  their  stand,  with  the  circling  ranks  of  lovely  brides 
maids  and  gallant  groomsmen  about  them,  and  have 
time  to  note  the  lavish  and  beautiful  decorations,  for 
here,  as  at  church,  flowers  are  everywhere,  and  banks 
of  daisies  with  the  R.  S.  monogram  in  carnations, 
the  crossed  sabres  of  the  — th,  cavalry  guidons,  and 
the  stars  and  stripes  all  tell  of  the  work  of  loving 
hands  and  hearts.  And  such  a  picture  as  she  makes  as 
she  stands  there  by  his  side  !  When,  when  was  Marion 
half  so  lovely  ?  Her  rippling  hair,  her  lustrous  eyes, 
her  pure  complexion,  her  beaming,  blissful  smile,  her 
winsome  charm  of  manner  that  none  could  ever  quite 
describe, — none  could  ever  imitate  !  Her  dress  ?  Must 
I  tell  of  that  ?  True,  madam,  I  bow  in  all  meekness. 
No  wedding  description  could  be  even  tolerable,  as 
you  say,  that  ignored  the  bridal  toilet.  Why  !  therein, 
too,  Marion  shone  forth  in  one  of  her  quaintest,  most 
original  guises.  Such  a  struggle  as  she  had  had  with 
Madam  Finnegan, — that  autocrat  of  metropolitan  mo- 
distes!  "I  will  be  no  conventional  bride,"  she  de 
clared  ;  orange  flowers  she  would  not  wear,  but  her  veil 
was  fastened  by  her  own  flower, — exquisite  daisies  in 
silver  and  gold  filigree  work ;  and  the  dress  ? — Madam 
vowed  it  would  ruin  her  prestige, — that  it  was  unheard 
of,  impossible ;  that  no  bridal  dress  could  be  made  low- 
necked  and  sleeveless ;  but  Marion  well  knew  the  beauty 

37* 


438  MARION'S  FAITH. 

of  her  neck  and  arms,  and  Ray  had  begged  it  should 
be  so.  Madam  protested,  but  in  vain ;  the  low-cut, 
sleeveless  corsage  fitted  closely  to  the  lines  of  the  lovely 
figure,  and  gleamed  with  pearl  embroidered  lace,  while 
the  front  of  the  skirt  was  trimmed  m  tablier  with  the 
same,  and  a  profusion  of  rich  point-lace  fell  on  either 
side  from  the  waist  to  the  bottom  of  the  skirt.  Soft, 
rich,  creamy  satin  was  the  material,  falling  in  long, 
straight,  ample  folds  from  the  waist  to  the  end  of  the 
train.  Neither  pearls  nor  diamonds  would  she  wear. 
Not  a  gem  is  in  her  ears.  Her  one  decoration  is  an 
exquisite  daisy-chain  or  necklace, — a  dainty  and  deli 
cate  piece  of  handiwork  in  gold  and  silver, — and  this 
is  Ray's  present  to  his  bride. 

Of  the  hundreds  invited  to  the  church,  only  relatives, 
closest  friends,  and  "  the  Army  people"  are  bidden  to 
the  reception  at  the  Sanfords'.  The  Army  represent 
Ray's  kindred,  for  the  loving  old  mother  had  been 
growing  too  feeble  of  late  to  venture  on  the  journey, 
and  she  had  decided  to  await  their  coming  to  her  at 
Lexington;  and  Nellie  Rallston,  who  longed  to  be 
present,  gave  it  up  when  her  husband  decided  that  his 
business  would  not  permit  him  to  be  so  far  away  at 
such  a  time,  but  as  compensation,  he  told  her  to  com 
pute  every  dollar  she  thought  the  journey  with  all  in 
cidentals  would  have  cost  them,  and  to  double  it  and 
send  to  Chicago  for  the  loveliest  present  the  money 
would  buy  as  her  own  gift  to  Billy's  wife.  As  for 
himself,  he  had  already  chosen  his  present, — the  pret 
tiest  Kentucky  saddle-horse  that  ever  woman  rode.  It 
was  his  way  of  expressing  his  appreciation  of  what  she 
had  done  for  Dandy.  And  so  it  happened  that  in  the 


A    CAVALRY    WEDDING,  439 

big  room  up-stairs,  where  the  presents  are  shown  to  the 
limited  few  who  are  bidden  to  the  reception,  Nell's 
beautiful  bracelets  are  flanked  by  two  photographs, — 
counterfeit  presentments  of  a  most  shapely  and  know 
ing-looking  little  steed,  yet  unnamed, — with  Mr.  Rall- 
ston's  congratulations  and  best  wishes.  There  is  no 
describing  the  many  costly  and  beautiful  gifts  from 
the  great  circle  of  friends,  relatives,  and  schoolmates. 
Papa's,  too,  is  of  eminent  solidity,  though  flimsy  paper 
is  the  medium,  but  there  are  some  that  cannot  be 
passed  over  without  remark.  There  is  significance  in 
them. 

One  is  a  worn  iron  horseshoe,  framed  and  set  in  gold, 
backed  with  velvet,  and  surrounding  an  oval  miniature 
of  a  horse  and  rider ;  the  horse  is  the  lithe-limbed 
sorrel,  Dandy;  the  rider,  in  the  broad-brimmed  hat, 
the  blue  scouting-shirt,  and  Indian  leggings,  is  Ray. 
Touch  a  spring  at  the  base  of  the  frame  and  the  front 
flies  open  and  reveals  that  this  is  but  the  enclosure,  for 
within  nestles  an  exquisite  little  Swiss  watch  and  chain 
of  daintiest  workmanship,  with  the  monogram  M.  S.  in 
diamonds.  The  horseshoe  bears  this  inscription  : "  From 
the  officers  and  men  of  Wayne's  squadron,  — th  U.  S. 
Cavalry,  in  grateful  remembrance  of  a  deed  of  heroism 
which  renders  sacred  to  them  the  name  of  Ray."  And 
there  is  a  letter  from  Wayne,  which  says,  "  The  shoe  is 
one  of  the  four  your  gallant  husband  stripped  from 
Dandy's  feet  the  night  he  braved  death  to  bring  us 
rescue.  The  other  three  are  not  to  be  had  for  love  or 
money.  My  wife  and  children  have  one  of  them  :  the 
two  companies  that  composed  the  command  have  each 
another,  framed  and  inscribed  over  the  first  sergeant's 


440  MARION'S  FAITH. 

door."  (Marion  had  no  present  she  was  so  eager  every 
one  should  see  as  this.)  Then  there  is  a  wonderful  clock 
of  curious  workmanship  with  a  musical  chime  of  bells 
that  is  going  to  prove  something  of  a  white  elephant  in 
moving  from  one  post  to  another  out  on  the  frontier, 
but  Marion  vows  it  shall  never  be  left  behind.  It 
comes  from  the  men  of  the  captain's  own  troop,  many 
of  whom  served  under  him  in  Arizona,  and  there's  a 
letter  signed  by  the  whole  company,  from  the  first  ser 
geant  down  to  Private  Zwinge,  in  which  they  send  their 
loyalty  and  duty  to  the  bride  of  the  bravest  officer  and 
kindest  friend  soldier  ever  had,  and  Marion  shows  this 
to  Grace  with  blithe,  happy  laughter.  "  Now  talk  to 
me  about  your  Jack  !"  she  says. 

Ah,  well !  Smiles  and  tears  are  intermingled,  as  they 
must  be  even  in  the  marriage  feast.  There  are  so  many 
there  to  whom  the  bride  recalls  the  gentle,  winsome 
mother,  only,  never  was  seen  on  that  young  mother's 
face,  even  in  her  maiden  days,  such  peace  and  joy  as  is 
in  the  bride's  to-night.  There  is  no  long  lingering  over 
the  reception.  Society  will  be  invited  to  some  formal 
affairs  of  that  kind  when  the  happy  couple  return  from 
their  brief  wedding-tour,  and  only  a  few  magnates  from 
abroad  have  to  be  shaken  hands  with.  The  immediate 
wedding-party  are  soon  seated — twenty  of  them — at  the 
great  table  in  the  dining-room,  while  all  the  guests  are 
scattered  about  at  little  quartette  affairs  around  the 
broad  halls  and  conservatory,  and  the  orchestra  plays 
sweet  strains  from  their  perch  on  the  enclosed  piazza,  and 
busy  waiters  fly  to  and  fro,  and  soon  the  champagne- 
corks  are  popping  and  the  rooms  are  ringing  with  mirth 
and  merriment,  and  Ray  and  Marion,  seated  side  by  side 


A    CAVALRY    WEDDING.  441 

at  the  head  of  the  broad  table,  are  bombarded  with  toasts 
and  congratulations,  and  the  laughter  and  applause 
grow  incessant  as  the  bridesmaids  and  groomsmen  ex 
change  the  poetic  "  m  ottos"  in  the  favors  they  find  at 
their  places,  and  no  bridesmaid  seems  quite  able  to 
properly  affix  the  little  gold  sabre  that  is  nestling  in 
the  folds  of  her  napkin  :  it  takes  a  soldier's  practised 
hand  to  fasten  them  in  those  dainty  India  silks ;  and 
every  groomsman  swears  that  no  one  but  a  woman  can 
ever  properly  adjust  the  daisy,  which,  as  a  scarf-pin,  is 
his  reward  for  the  evening's  services ;  and  some  in 
spired  fellow-citizen  gracefully  proposes  the  health  of 
the  hostess,  and  an  eminent  statesman  present  ponder 
ously  does  likewise  for  the  bride,  although  it  was  the 
fixed  determination  that  there  should  be  no  formal 
speech-making ;  but  Mr.  Sanford  happily  comes  to  the 
rescue  in  a  few  remarks  of  unaccustomed  humor,  in 
which  he  sets  the  room  in  a  roar  by  expressing  his  sat 
isfaction  at  having  married  off  one  encumbrance,  his 
modified  rapture  in  the  reflection  that  there  were  still 
two  or  three  in  the  way  of  daughters  and  nieces  whom 
he  felt  bound  to  similarly  dispose  of,  his  comfort  in  the 
sight  of  half  a  dozen  such  likely  young  officers  as  those 
present,  and  his  hope  that  they  wouldn't  "  fool  away 
their  time."  This  dispels  anything  like  formality,  and 
the  next  thing  there  is  a  health  to  the  Army  and  shouts 
for  Blake.  He  finds  his  long  legs  slowly,  and  comes 
to  the  scratch  infinitely  puzzled  as  to  how  he  is  to 
worry  through,  but  all  is  merriment  by  this  time,  and 
fun  and  laughter  reward  his  feeblest  shots.  He  is 
understood  to  begin  somewhat  as  follows  : 

"You  ought  not  to  expect  me  to  respond  for  the 


442  MARION'S  FAITH. 

Army.  I  can't  speak  for  the  ladies  thereof  because  they 
never  gave  m<3  a  chance  to  practise  (oh  !  slander  !),  and 
I  can't  drink  for  the  men  because  they  insist  on  doing 
it  for  themselves  (another  libel !).  In  fact,  after  being 
here  five  days  as  the  guest  of  our  hospitable  friends  at 
the  club,  I'm  wondering  how  any  one  ever  could  see 
anything  to  drink  to  in  the  army.  Life  there  is  a  fear 
ful  grind.  In  the  lofty  and  inspired  language  of  Canon 
Kingsley, — if  not  cannon,  he  was  at  least  a  big  gun  in 
ecclesiastical  circles  (oh  !), — it  is  a  life  in  which 

1  Men  must  shirk  and  women  must  sweep.'  " 

(Loud  protestations.)  "  Indeed,  if  it  were  not  for  the 
ladies — God  bless  them  ! — we  would  have  nothing  but 
fighting  in  the  field  and  stagnation  at  home;  but, 
whenever  they  get  to  running  things  their  way,  it — it  is 
just  the  reverse."  (Shame !  No !  Wretch !)  He 
vainly  strives  to  rally  under  the  fire  of  imprecation, 
but  it  is  too  late.  The  groomsmen  are  denouncing 
him,  as  he  deserves  to  be,  as  a  slanderer  and  recreant. 
Mr.  Ferris  and  Mr.  Waring  spring  to  their  feet  to 
implore  the  assembly  to  reject  any  and  all  such  state 
ments  as  the  emanations  of  an  embittered,  oft-rejected, 
and  "  subtle,  perjured,  false,  disloyal  man  ;"  and  poor 
Blake,  who  really  wanted  to  wind  up  with  an  apos 
trophe  to  the  crowning  excellences  of  the  bride,  is 
driven  to  cover,  a  victim  of  his  vicious  propensity  for 
burlesque.  He  has  created  illimitable  merriment,  how 
ever,  and  is  to  be  infinitely  congratulated  on  getting 
off  so  easily.  And  then  the  bride-cake  is  cut,  and  eager 
is  the  excitement  over  the  search  for  the  prophetic  ring, 


A    CAVALRY    WEDDING.  443 

and  the  blushing  bridesmaid  wh  o  gets  it  has  plainly 
made  a  deep  impression  on  the  young  artilleryman  who 
is  seated  next  her,  and  is  accused  of  already  wearing 
his  colors  in  her  cheeks;  and  then  comes  the  dance, 
and  the  crash-covered  floors  are  speedily  alive  with 
twinkling  feet,  and  the  bride's  own  set  in  the  lanciers 
is  surrounded  by  a  throng  of  eager  lookers-on.  And 
Ray's  color  has  come  back  to  his  bronzed  cheeks,  and 
he  has  looked  so  well,  so  infinitely  happy,  so  proud  and 
radiant  all  the  evening,  and  yet  so  grave  withal,  so 
quiet  and  self-restrained.  All  men  speak  of  the  earnest 
feeling  that  is  evident  in  his  acceptance  of  the  showered 
congratulations,  and  the  army  comrades  who  have  been 
long  separated  from  him  wonder  at  the  change  that  has 
come  over  the  fellow  they  once  called  "  Rattling  Ray." 
And  Marion !  Heaven's  blessings  never  lighted  a 
more  exquisite  face  than  is  hers  to-night !  She  is 
simply  radiant,  simply  irresistible,  for  the  girls  hang 
about  her  to  repeat  their  congratulations  again  and 
again,  to  win  another  kiss,  to  hear  the  winning,  gra 
cious  accents  of  the  voice  that  has  so  long  charmed  and 
enthralled  them.  Old  and  young,  rich  and  poor,  big 
and  little,  those  kinsfolk,  school-mates,  and  neighbors, 
especially  the  little  ones  who  were  her  scholars  in  the 
Sunday-school,  flock  about  her,  watch  her  with  fasci 
nated  eyes ;  and  for  every  one  she  has  sweet  and  gra 
cious  words  and  beaming  smiles ;  she  holds  them  to  the 
last.  The  children  troop  about  her  as  she  is  led  away 
to  change  her  bridal-dress  for  the  journey.  ;Tis  ap 
proaching  midnight  and  the  "  owl  train"  leaves  within 
the  hour ;  and  they  hang  about  the  stairways  waiting 
for  her  reappearance,  and  hover  in  mysterious  fascina- 


444  MARION'S  FAITH. 

tion  about  Captain  Ray  as  he  comes  in  his  travelling 
suit  of  mufti,  and  wonder  why  he  should  discard  his 
uniform  and  sword,  and  the  carriage  is  now  at  the 
door,  and  great  store  of  rice  and  old  slippers  are  got  in 
readiness,  and  presently  down  the  broad  stairway  she 
comes,  metamorphosed  as  to  raiment,  but  radiant,  win 
some  as  ever ;  and  they  seize  upon  her  and  bear  her  off 
bodily  into  the  great  parlor,  and  throng  about  her  and 
pull  her  this  way,  that  way,  every  way,  and  kiss  and 
maul  and  squeeze  and  rumple,  and  never  seem  to  ex 
haust  her  infinite  patience  or  their  own  extravagant 
capacity ;  but  at  last  they  begin  to  surge  towards  the 
door-way,  and  the  bridesmaids  hover  in  circle  for  the 
closing  ceremony,  and  she  tosses  her  bouquet  to  the 
ceiling  amid  shouts  and  scurry,  and,  marvel  of  mar 
vels  !  it  is  captured  by  her  of  the  rosy  cheeks  and 
dancing  eyes  who  has  already  secured  the  ring  and  fas 
cinated  the  artilleryman,  and  they  reach  the  door,  and 
Ray  has  squeezed  out  to  the  steps,  and  some  of  the 
emotional  cousins  have  retreated  sobbing  to  deserted 
nooks  and  corners  about  the  house,  and  at  last  she  comes 
forth  and  springs  lightly  down  the  stairs,  and  the  rice 
rattles  after  her  along  the  broad  walk,  and  the  grooms 
men  line  the  gate- way  and  usher  her  into  the  carriage, 
and  stand  there  ready  to  volley  them  with  old  slippers, 
and  Ray  is  just  about  springing  in  beside  her,  when 
down  comes  Blake  with  his  seven-league  strides,  bear 
ing  a  sobbing  little  sunny-haired  maiden  of  seven  in 
his  arms. 

"  Hold  on  !"  he  shouts.     "  This  is  my  little  sweet 
heart,  and  she  shan't  be  left  out  in  the  cold." 

And  Marion  leans  from  the  carriage,  and  Ray  stands 


A    CAVALRY   WEDDING.  445 

to  one  side,  as  the  weeping  little  one  holds  out  her 
arms. 

"  Oh,  Miss  Ma — wion,  I  haven't  had  one  kiss.  They 
all  cwowded  so,  and  I  was  the  only  one."  And  her  sobs 
break  forth  afresh. 

"  My  own  little  kitten  !"  she  cries,  as  the  child  is 
seized  and  folded  to  her  heart.  "  How  could  I  have 
come  away  without  seeing  my  baby  scholar  ?"  And  the 
mite  is  hugged  and  kissed  and  comforted  and  sent  back 
to  Blake's  strong  arms,  rapturous  because  she  has  had 
Queen  Marion's  last  embrace,  and  then  Ray  springs  to 
her  side  and  the  door  slams,  and  the  horses  plunge,  and 
away  they  drive  amid  a  shower  of  blessings  and  old 
slippers ;  and  they  have  gone  a  block  before  she  notes 
his  silence,  and,  turning,  sees  that  his  eyes  are  closed, 
that  a  tear  is  glistening  on  his  bronzed  cheek. 

"  Will, — husband,"  she  whispers,  lovingly,  tenderly, 
half-reproachfully.  "What  is  it?"  And  her  little 
hand  steals  into  his. 

For  a  moment  there  is  no  reply.  His  arm  is  quickly 
thrown  around  her  and  she  is  drawn  close  to  his  breast ; 
his  lips  are  pressed  to  her  forehead,  but  he  utters  no 
word. 

At  last  she  hears  the  answer, — 

"  My  darling.  I  am  wondering  what  I  ever  did  to 
deserve  one  moment  of  your  love.  I  am  wondering 
what  man  could  deserve — you  ;  and,  I — was  praying 
God's  guidance  that  I  might  never  disappoint  your 
trust." 

It  is  many  a  long  year  since  that  bright  summer. 
Men  have  come  and  men  have  gone.  Vows  have  been 

38 


446  MARION'S  FAITH. 

made  and  vows  and  hearts  together  have  been  broken, 
and  yet,  some  lives,  though  into  each  "  some  rain  must 
fall,"  have  been  full  of  sunshine. 

Only  the  other  day  there  came  Eastward  a  letter 
from  a  proud  young  matron, — still  young  despite  the 
cares  incidental  to  the  possession  of  a  lively  brood, 
among  whom  there  seems  no  higher  ambition  than  to 
emulate  the  exploits  of  a  certain  Master  Sandy  Ray, 
who  is  in  pristine  knickerbockers  and  perennial  mis 
chief.  "  Jack  says,"  writes  this  proud  mamma,  "  that 
with  all  his  pranks  that  blessed  little  rascal  is  his  father 
all  over,  fearless,  truthful,  and  generous,  and  Captain 
Ray  fairly  idolizes  him.  My  Jack  junior  is  a  head 
taller  and  nearly  two  years  older,  but  the  two  are  in 
separable,  and  it  is  a  sight  to  see  them  '  going  off  scout 
ing'  on  their  Indian  ponies.  As  for  Marion,  I  believe 
she  is  the  happiest  woman  in  the  army." 

Well !  Mrs.  TruscoU  ought  to  know,  and  this  goes 
far  towards  substantiation  of  Truscott's  theory,  that 
Marion's  faith  was  given  to  a  man  who  was  loyal  in 
every  fibre  of  his  being,  tender  as  he  was  brave,  stead 
fast  as  he  was  loving,  and  he  loves  her  as  such  a  woman 
deserves  to  be  loved,  tenderly,  faithfully,  and  to 


THE   END. 


ANTOINETTE; 

OR, 

.    •    .    THE  MARL-PIT  MYSTERY 

By  Georges  Ohnet,  author  of  "Dr.    Rameau."     Twelve 
Illustrations.     i2mo.     Cloth,  $1.00.     Paper,  50  cents. 


"  In  plot,  character,  dramatic  power,  style,  and  thought  the 
book  represents  what  is  best  in  contemporary  French  fiction.  It 
is  the  work  of  a  thorough  artist,  who  honors  his  art,  and  who 
does  not  bid  for  popularity  at  the  expense  of  the  proprieties,  and 
who  does  not  seek  for  originality  in  mere  eccentricity.  This 
novel  commends  itself  strongly  to  the  reader  by  the  skill  with 
which  its  plot  is  woven,  by  its  fine  analysis  of  motives,  its  vivid 
force  in  description,  and  its  quality  as  a  work  of  literary  art ;  and 
that  it  must  be  appreciated  at  its  best  value  by  all  thoughtful 
readers  is  unquestionable." — Boston  Gazette. 

"  There  are  few  novels  in  any  tongue  which  more  emphasize 
strength  and  nobility  of  character  and  a  purity  of  life  than 
'Antoinette.'  .  .  .  Few  recent  works  of  fiction  inspire  a  reader 
with  such  generous  and  lofty  ideas  of  life  and  action." — Chicago 
Times. 

"A  beautiful  and  yet  forceful  story,  well  conceived  and 
splendidly  told.  It  is  a  novel  of  a  thousand,  and  one  that  can  be 
read  again  and  again,  and  enjoyed  fully  with  every  reading." — 
Nashville  (Tenn.)  American. 


***  For  sale  by  all  Booksellers,  or  will  be  sent  by  the  Publishers ,  post-paid, 
on  receipt  of  the  price. 

J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  COMPANY, 

715-717  MARKET  STREET, 

-   PHILADELPHIA. 


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